Lingering

[11 May 2006 | Thursday] 

It still lingers there, just below the surface, just waiting to be scratched. It's a scab that never quite healed, always ready to bleed. I knew it was there, whether I simply forgot about it from time to time, I was still aware. The hidden pain, the self-loathing, it was always there. It never went away, remaining as intense as ever. I thought it was over a couple of times, that I had past that time in my life, that I had succeeded in building something fresh and new, something solid. All it took was a single thought, one little venture back into that past. -And here it is, smeared all over everything again. Am I always going to be that boy? Am I always going to doomed to relive those times again and again? Feel that pain, fearing rejection, doubting that I'll ever find anyone meaningful, not knowing my own worth? Am I always going to pretend that I had more confidence, to know how to talk to people, to not always be self-conscious about every little thing? Am I always going to be that way? I'm a powder keg, but not in that dangerous, good sort of way. I don't know what I'm feeling anymore. So burnt out, I feel so used up at this point, emotionally drained. -And I don't even know why. All these things, these emotions are just buolding up inside of me and I don't know how to think, how to deal. It really makes me question if I've ever really dealt with anything or if i just shoved it down and hoped that it would all go away. I guess I just don't have a healthy outlook or a healthy way of dealing with anything. I'm doing exactly what I've done all my life. I shove it down into a little ball and put on a smile for the rest of the world, while the pain, the hurt, and the anger remain fresh and ripe in the back ground. All it takes is that little fuse leading to my... explosion, yet not, more of an implosion, crashing down against myself with little more than a silent whisper to single anyone around me. I collapse. I become useless. I'm supposed to be the strong one and I feel so f*cking weak. Here I am, made of glass. One tiny hammer strike and I'm on the verge of tears. I put on this strong face for everyone and when I need it, who do I turn to? No one. I can't even ask for help. -And even if I could, where would I begin? What could they do? What could they say? "I'm sorry, Alex. I'm sorry it went that way. These things happen to all of us. We're here for you." I'd appreciate it. I really would. -But what does it solve at the end of the day? I'd walk away with no less pain, no less fear, with no less anger. Sure, I'd walk away with a warm fuzzy feeling knowing that I had people who really loved me, people who really cared, but that doesn't change a thing. No matter how many people you have, it doesn't change a thing if you don't believe.