I’m sick as shit. No lie, I have probably drunk about 8 liters of water in the last 4 hours and my throat is still as dry as the fucking Sahara. There’s probably more buggers in my nose than there is blood in my entire body, and my sickle-cell traits have started to develop, which gives me some shitty joint pain that hurts enough to make me fear moving my arms.
I’d probably be happy if that was all of it, though.
The end of the year is approaching, which means I also need my yearly dose of love problems, which are enough to give three whole generations’ their worth of grey hair.
Beware, I’m 16, in a constant state of confusion, depression and heart break that hasn’t ever stopped since March 22nd of this year.
Which means this probably isn’t worth your damn time.
Yeah, the exact same as the end of '16. There’s a special someone. Said someone is about to end their current relationship which apparently fucking sucks. I’m happy because this means my chances may go up, but I’m also not a heartless monster who pounces on the slightest misfortune of others to achieve his own gains.
They need time, I’m willing to wait.
But, what a surprise, this isn’t the only problem. We’re too alike, they say.
We’ll only end up hurting each other, they say.
It doesn’t cost anything to try, I say.
A chance at being happy is worth all the grief in the world, I say.
But they don’t wanna budge. So the damn lid blows the fuck up, I get angry, and tell them that if that is what they truly believe…
Then forget I fucking exist. Block my number, eliminate me from your social media. Don’t talk to me, avoid me when you see me in person, throw out all those pictures you have of me, fix up your relationship and leave me the fuck alone.
Wait, you can’t. Everytime you try, you do it for one, maybe two months. Then you come back, and start looking for me again.
You get mad at me for treating you differently, but close yourself off when I try to treat you the same as always.
You ask my friends about me, inquire as to what is going on with me. But if I’m the one who tries to include and tell you, golly-fucking-molly, time to build a wall taller than Trump’s ego and sturdier than Kim Jong Un’s racism to keep me out.
Oh! Looks like I got through to them, they’re finally accepting reality.
So they ask me if I know what I’m doing wrong. When I answer in the negative, they start listing qualities in people.
Which is a good thing, I suppose. They’re telling me things. Things they want me to show them, so this thing can grow back into the love we used to have, instead of the simple attraction there is now.
But… That also means what I have showed them, what I have demonstrated isn’t enough.
And I showed her everything. The only one to truly know me, the real me, is them.
No, my best friend is very special to me. The second most special person in my life. I don’t hold any feelings of that type for her, but if by some weird twist of fate life ended up making us spend the rest of our lives together, well, I’d be happy.
My mother doesn’t know me fully either. Some quirks, maybe. What I like, too. But not everything.
No one in my family does.
But who knows me exactly as I am? My weaknesses, my strengths? My prides, and my fears, what I like, and what I hate?
Even if they don’t, I’m willing to let them explore everything about me, without restrictions.
That’s not enough.
So, I have to give more, show more.
If I have given them a 100%, then I should give a 1,000% now.
But let’s suppose I show them that 1,000%, and it’s enough, and we end up being happy.
Would they love me, or would they love the person I became?
I don’t know.
Which means the only thing I can do now is think. Think long, and hard.
Will it be worth it to change, in order to get what I love and want, but in the end never be sure if it’s really me who they love?
Or would it be better to give up? Accept I never was, I’m not, and will never be enough and lose them?
Lose them to go back to the same shit as the summer, where the only thing in my mind when I woke up was how much I wanted to fall asleep again?
Maybe this love crap just wasn’t made for me.