Now

Do you sometimes stand silently somewhere, but even though your body can barely contain the screams, you have to keep it in and keep smiling. I have amazing friends, truly wonderful people who care about me and vice versa. They don't see what I'm going through and I am particularly gifted at pretending to be ok. I have also fallen in love before and I have been hurt, physically and emotionally. I equate love with pain. My heart has ached for months on end after breaking up with someone and I have believed that love doesn't exist. At this stage in my life I still do. I know I am a fiercely loyal person, being unfaithful to someone is not in my nature. I have also been accused of being a cheater. I was willing to date an abuser, an alcoholic. I went to meetings with the latter, loved every single screwed up bit of him. Not because I wanted to have someone in my life, but parts of my soul connected with who he was a person. Parts of my soul were also dying though. When you have something important to say and no one listens, your heart tends to break even more, and when that person is your boyfriend, it is even worse. I will never get to share the hurt and pain I have felt or endured with some people. I don't want to hurt them or keep reliving the past. Nietzsche said: "And when you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you." Hate consumes me at times. I am scared of what I might become if I don't guard against this.

Hope can be terribly cruel, a knife that twists and cuts deeper. The world is filled with dysfunctional, dishonest people. Why does it sometimes feel like I'm not even supposed to be here. Disillusioned, jaded, used and it doesn't seem to end. Relationships have never been my thing. Maybe I make it hard for someone to love me. Maybe I have unrealitistic expectations of what love should be like. Maybe I look for patterns based on memories of past relationships. When will I find that someone special every other person seems to magically find?

Which brings me to the one guy I will have an equal amount of good and bad memories of. If you ever read this Petunia, just remember that I loved you. You really hurt me.