i'm sorry.
Dear Jerkface/JamaicaBoy/Bitchface/Love,
I'm sorry for a lot of things, and I know you hate it when I apologize, but what else am I supposed to say? I'm embarrassed of my actions and I am completely ashamed of everything that I have thought, felt, and said to you.
Mostly, I'm sorry I can't love you properly. I'm sorry there's so much baggage and obviously, I have emotional issues that I just can't push aside for you. I'm sorry this relationship is imbalanced. You love me so much more than I think I love you, I don't even get it. I really don't want to get it either. I don't know how you can keep loving me when I'm like this, when I'm like that. I want to love you--godfuckingdamn, you know I do--but there's just so much in the way. I'm no good at this.
Knowing that I can't love you like someone should and like you deserve to be loved pushes me farther and farther away from you. There are plenty of girls and guys out there who can love you just as well as I have, and better. It may not be that you love them now, or that you'll love them in the next two weeks but I am sure that you will learn to love them as you have me. You fall so easily, feeling with every ounce of emotion you can, and quite frankly, I'm epically jealous of that. The reason I listen to music like Amanda Palmer's is because her music derives itself from the very core of emotions I can't bring myself to accept.
I encourage you to listen to Thirty Whacks and, of course, Colorblind by The Dresden Dolls. The former provides quite a detailed narration (and quite possibly, is the very origin itself) of the problems I have encountered in the past week and many weeks before that. The latter... I have only explained part of it to you. I would imagine you singing this to me (singing as only you can) the nights I would find myself failing at love, as is the case currently. If I'm not the one, I will be terribly relieved with the knowledge that someone out there can take care of you a lot better than I can. If that is not the case, then I fear for your sanity and your health much more than I fear for mine.
I'm sorry I constantly put you through this. I don't know what's wrong with me, and I hope to never know. There are some days when I like to pretend that nothing is wrong with me and that I'm a fairly sane girl with exceptionally strange friends. It's these days when I'm at my happiest. They came so easily during the school year, when I'd sit there during 9th period, anxious of the group fucktarding session to follow. I loved (and still love) hanging out with you and the rest of the group. Other days, I know there is nothing wrong with me and this is all just a phase. Eventually I will grow out of my attention whoring ways and realize that the world is not and should never be so focused on me and my problems. I am simply a very troubled girl who needs to learn how to grow up. Even other days, mostly nights, really, I realize that there is something very wrong with me, and I have no way to completely fight it. I try and I try to repress it, but my selfishness wins over. I give in to the pleasure of having you there, and I'm so intoxicated that I don't see it sneaking up behind me and catching me offguard, sending whatever this is into the depths of another realm.
I have to make this clear now, she and I are exactly the same person. Both are Mariel. I can deny it and whine about it all I want, but there is no doubt in my mind that she is just as much a part of me as every other aspect of me you've seen. And that scares the living shit out of me. I hate it. I do things I shouldn't, I say things I wouldn't, and I want things that I know I will never be able to get. She knows my every thought. She knows my weaknesses and my shames and everything that will take down my pride, which is why i divulge them to you so often.
I want you to have the same kind of power over me that she has. As you said, if I really wanted to deal with her, I would have done so long ago.
But I can't ask this of you. I can't depend on anybody to be my colloquial "knight in shining armor." I have to do this myself.
But who says I have to do it alone?
It's these kind of conversations I have with myself that drive me absolutely bonkers. One part of me fighting another. Can't I just have a decision and stick with it? I'm so fickle minded. I never even really know what I'm thinking. How am I supposed to know what I want if I can't choose?
On a not-so-random tangent, I'm sorry I'm possessive. I'm sorry I get jealous easily. I wish I was like you. I wish I could let you go so easily (but isn't that what I'm doing, with all that talk about someone who loves you better?). I also wish this stupid conscience of mind would shut the fuck up. Obviously, wishes don't always come true (for which I'm glad... and slightly miffed). Anyways, I want this whatever this thing is to be balanced. I could carry so much more weight on my side, but I choose not to.
I don't know why.
It's not because I don't want to, and I don't know if it's because I don't know how. All I know is that I haven't been fair to you.
But this is all just words. Words mean nothing if I'm as fickle minded as I'm believed to be.
In fact, how do you know that anything I'm saying is real? How do you know it's not bullshit from that attention whore again? I don't even know.
I really don't know.
I'm going to give up talking before my head explodes. The more I talk to you, the more I make you feel like shit. The more you feel like shit, the more I feel bad, the more you feel more like shit.
I don't need your help because there's nothing to help with.
Always,
Mariel.
I'm sorry for a lot of things, and I know you hate it when I apologize, but what else am I supposed to say? I'm embarrassed of my actions and I am completely ashamed of everything that I have thought, felt, and said to you.
Mostly, I'm sorry I can't love you properly. I'm sorry there's so much baggage and obviously, I have emotional issues that I just can't push aside for you. I'm sorry this relationship is imbalanced. You love me so much more than I think I love you, I don't even get it. I really don't want to get it either. I don't know how you can keep loving me when I'm like this, when I'm like that. I want to love you--godfuckingdamn, you know I do--but there's just so much in the way. I'm no good at this.
Knowing that I can't love you like someone should and like you deserve to be loved pushes me farther and farther away from you. There are plenty of girls and guys out there who can love you just as well as I have, and better. It may not be that you love them now, or that you'll love them in the next two weeks but I am sure that you will learn to love them as you have me. You fall so easily, feeling with every ounce of emotion you can, and quite frankly, I'm epically jealous of that. The reason I listen to music like Amanda Palmer's is because her music derives itself from the very core of emotions I can't bring myself to accept.
I encourage you to listen to Thirty Whacks and, of course, Colorblind by The Dresden Dolls. The former provides quite a detailed narration (and quite possibly, is the very origin itself) of the problems I have encountered in the past week and many weeks before that. The latter... I have only explained part of it to you. I would imagine you singing this to me (singing as only you can) the nights I would find myself failing at love, as is the case currently. If I'm not the one, I will be terribly relieved with the knowledge that someone out there can take care of you a lot better than I can. If that is not the case, then I fear for your sanity and your health much more than I fear for mine.
I'm sorry I constantly put you through this. I don't know what's wrong with me, and I hope to never know. There are some days when I like to pretend that nothing is wrong with me and that I'm a fairly sane girl with exceptionally strange friends. It's these days when I'm at my happiest. They came so easily during the school year, when I'd sit there during 9th period, anxious of the group fucktarding session to follow. I loved (and still love) hanging out with you and the rest of the group. Other days, I know there is nothing wrong with me and this is all just a phase. Eventually I will grow out of my attention whoring ways and realize that the world is not and should never be so focused on me and my problems. I am simply a very troubled girl who needs to learn how to grow up. Even other days, mostly nights, really, I realize that there is something very wrong with me, and I have no way to completely fight it. I try and I try to repress it, but my selfishness wins over. I give in to the pleasure of having you there, and I'm so intoxicated that I don't see it sneaking up behind me and catching me offguard, sending whatever this is into the depths of another realm.
I have to make this clear now, she and I are exactly the same person. Both are Mariel. I can deny it and whine about it all I want, but there is no doubt in my mind that she is just as much a part of me as every other aspect of me you've seen. And that scares the living shit out of me. I hate it. I do things I shouldn't, I say things I wouldn't, and I want things that I know I will never be able to get. She knows my every thought. She knows my weaknesses and my shames and everything that will take down my pride, which is why i divulge them to you so often.
I want you to have the same kind of power over me that she has. As you said, if I really wanted to deal with her, I would have done so long ago.
But I can't ask this of you. I can't depend on anybody to be my colloquial "knight in shining armor." I have to do this myself.
But who says I have to do it alone?
It's these kind of conversations I have with myself that drive me absolutely bonkers. One part of me fighting another. Can't I just have a decision and stick with it? I'm so fickle minded. I never even really know what I'm thinking. How am I supposed to know what I want if I can't choose?
On a not-so-random tangent, I'm sorry I'm possessive. I'm sorry I get jealous easily. I wish I was like you. I wish I could let you go so easily (but isn't that what I'm doing, with all that talk about someone who loves you better?). I also wish this stupid conscience of mind would shut the fuck up. Obviously, wishes don't always come true (for which I'm glad... and slightly miffed). Anyways, I want this whatever this thing is to be balanced. I could carry so much more weight on my side, but I choose not to.
I don't know why.
It's not because I don't want to, and I don't know if it's because I don't know how. All I know is that I haven't been fair to you.
But this is all just words. Words mean nothing if I'm as fickle minded as I'm believed to be.
In fact, how do you know that anything I'm saying is real? How do you know it's not bullshit from that attention whore again? I don't even know.
I really don't know.
I'm going to give up talking before my head explodes. The more I talk to you, the more I make you feel like shit. The more you feel like shit, the more I feel bad, the more you feel more like shit.
I don't need your help because there's nothing to help with.
Always,
Mariel.