Honestly (pt.5)

I tend to set myself up for disappointment and failure when it comes to others, why? Because I can expect nothing and still somehow be let down. Throughout life, all I’ve done is catered to everyone around me, psychically, mentally, emotionally and financially. People like to spend your time, energy, effort and money. With all I can get back but time.

In all honesty, all I really ever wanted back was love. Genuine, real love. I don’t know why I allow people to rob me out of my own self love and happiness. It feels like I’ve been put on this earth to divide my love into others. I teach and give love. In return, I’m pawned out of it. At times I question the realm of the reality. At times I feel so sick and tired. I feel so alone even when I’m in a room full of people. However when I’m really alone, it doesn’t feel lonely. At times I wish someone would just wipe the tears. I wish someone gave me the love I put out into the world. I just want a hug right now. I want to be catered to for once.

At times I really fucking hate myself for how I choose to love, how I choose to be loyal to those who can offer me nothing but heartache and pain. Everyone is selfish for whatever reason they can justify for. We all want something. For the status quo. For us to feel better. In some fucked up way, we are so fucking selfish. We use people for warmth. For care. For love. For something to grasp our palms and hands around. Sometimes I just want to turn off my brain for a quick moment so I can forget. But how can I forget all the bad that surfaces the good?

A wise woman once told me “we’ll always be reminded and remember all the bad memories and qualities but never the good.” It’s true. The same pattern acquire the same characteristics in a person. Someone can make a genuine mistake and learn from it. More than once it’s just who you are. Some people are for real evil. Not like leeches but bloodsucking parasites who just sucks the life and just drain every good ounce in you.


I thought I healed. I thought all the sadness, the depression, trauma, passed. With time and the right triggers from the wrong people made me realize that healing doesn’t have an end like I had previous predicted. I don’t hate me. I hate me for loving the way I do. The humanity switch trick doesn’t work anymore when it feels intense and this deep. I feel deeply. Intensely. I love so deeply and intensely. No wonder why my heart hurts so much when I’m let down.


That’s what fucking sucks. I’m literally a soaking sponge that absorbs peoples pain. Their negative energies. Their depression, their stress and whatever else demons and skeletons they got on. Or just a punching bag. Every friendship and relationship. People love to project their own insecurities and inflict chaos on to me.

For so long, I thought it was love. And oh fuck no, it is NOT LOVE. It was trauma-bonds. Like I said and will say until the day I die.… Love does not hurt. It’s not supposed to. It’s supposed to feel good. It’s supposed to feel sunny on a rainy day. It’s supposed to feel like you just tasted your childhood candy for the first time, again.

And oh the fucking little girl in me with all the hope in the world. Thinking I can help. Thinking I can change someone; naive me, thinking: I can fix them. I’m not a paid therapist. I’m not Bob the fucking builder. I am human. I am me. I have feelings too and sometimes it feels like I can’t ever feel because I’ve became numb to all the chaos that I attract or I’m attracted to. I like to fix broken things but sometimes things are broken glasses. With glass, it’s not replenish-able. It will never be the same.

Same with trust. People and trust mend into broken glass that can never be fixed. At times I think I may hold grudges. In reality I don’t. I’m a realist. I programmed my brain into knowing what’s wrong and what’s right. My world is black and white. And I feel like people cannot understand the perception of the complexity of my sex organ-my brain (which is the largest sex organ in a human body-the brain). I can’t wrap my mind around the actions of those who hurt others, who hurt me. Out of spite. Just ’cause. I want to know the thought process. What action it took to proceed to the outcome? What’s the cause and effect.


Whoever said love is supposed to hurt and have it’s downs is a damn liar. I don’t care what anyone says. I’ve been in love… at least I like to think I was. Love isn’t fear of not having. It does not make you feel like you have to beg to have more. Love isn’t an emotion because it’s all emotions combined into one.

Sometimes I really wish I had an evil heart. I wish I can really turn off my humanity switch. But there is no hurt in my heart. Not in the way that makes me vengeful. Not the kind of angry that destroys every encounter that hurt me; no. At times I accept things for how it is. They did me so dirty. So fucking grimey. It is what it is. At times I sit here and overanalyze every thing that was said and done. I don’t feel bad for myself. I just want to reflect and deflect on what went wrong.

Again the empath in me wants to fix everything even when I’m not the one who broke the camels back.

Damn, eight point something billion people in this damn world, yet no one understands me.


No one knows how to love me.

No one can afford it.

No one was ever really deserving of it.

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