I Love By Sharing My Entire Life With You I'm Sorry I Didn't Realize It Was A Burden To You

I'm afraid that I will never commit suicide and will suffer for the rest of my days.

i love spring because the whole day feels like summer morning

some nights i feel so alone that a bubble balloons up in my stomach and dares to pop and im terrified that my mood will explode with it and ill have no emotions left and i will just be left empty with scattered organs and mindless memories of a simpler time when i felt the warmth of another body and could connect but the present is so cold

Yohji Yamamoto Pour Homme AW1995 Floral Turtleneck

i cant tell my older brother that ill be forever envious of his first baby because i was his first baby so ill suffer

and in between all the cooking and dishwashing, i let myself take a breath but i just get reminded of how empty i feel inside and nothing is okay for a while

back home

sometimes i think about how others may have perceived me; of course, the thought of being perceived itself brings about a disgusting turn in my stomach as i cannot handle being another person's momentary topic. i wonder if i had ever caused great pain for being neglectful as i'm sure i am. i ignore and ignore because i need to ignore the voices in my head and it's easier to do that when you aren't thinking of anyone else. i wonder if i ever broke someone's heart, if they ever thought of me and felt an ache because i was worth not losing, and keeping up with. i wonder if i ever caused a wave in someone's life that was bright enough to be noticed when it wasn't there. i wonder if someone thought of me months later and wished we still talked, if we had moments together that we could have repeated. i know i'm neglectful and i know i'm terrible at showing i care and sometimes i wonder if i do. do i care? am i just really cold blooded inside and don't give a fuck about making others happy? it doesn't matter, because either way, i'm sure i hurt some people at some point in time. or i could just be delusional. i could just be cellophane, or a ripple in the water as i drift from people's lives. i could just matter for a moment and be erased from memory from hence forth, and i'm aware it is because of my own abilities, or the lack thereof. i suppose i'm not afraid of not being wanted, i'm afraid of being forgotten. i think about people that played the smallest roles in my life, and how little i could care about them, and yet how i obsessed i can become with them. i wonder if they remember me and if they think about me sometimes, i wonder if they care that i'm alive, and that i'm not doing well. i wonder if they know i have this sickness and i want to end it all every day, but really i just wonder if they would care to know any of this. i was nothing to them, and i will always remain as such, i want to be remembered, i want to be thought of as gently and intimately as possible because i'm not sure how else i want to be perceived and known. it won't happen but i just want and want and want. i want everything i want people to know and i want people to care and i want people to see and see and see i want people to lunge their hand into my heart and pull it out and eat up the blood and the pain and i want them to understand how i feel and i want my pain to be their pain and for us to be lost in the middle somewhere and i want them to care because we are parts of each others and they can't abandon me now