I'm sad, and tired, and angry.
And once again I'm falling beneath everyone's notice.
Do i exist?
Am I a ghost? Fading in and out of peoples lives?
And why is it, no matter how hard I try, I can't get John's attention? (The man I lust for. When I'm not tired, sad, and angry.)
I guess I'm stuck the unsung hero.
It's a lonely existence when all you do is pick up pieces, yours, others, and no-one helps you pick up yours.
When you save people from physical or emotional danger constantly, and get nothing for it.
Not even a "thankyou".
When you do these things at least expecting when you try to kill yourself, if you fail somehow, someone will care enough to do something wihout prompting, and they don't?
Don't get me wrong, I can live without recognition.
But sometimes I could really use the odd. "Thanks man, you saved my ass back there."
Have you really saved someone when they forget about you?
But I'm stuck backstage, with my broom, cleaning up everyone else's problems.
What about me?
Sometimes I feel there's only one thing worth doing, buying a gun, and biding my time, and then cleaning house.
Hell, I might even get away with it.
And I wouldn't need to considering I'd likely be shot or shoot myself.
I'm so tired of being alone.
I'm so angry at myself, and at everyone who spends their time ignoring me for more interesting people. Even though those "interesting" people wouldn't lift a finger to help them.
And I'm sad because I'm tired and angry, and alone.
And I can't talk to John. Even though I feel there's no point because he's most likely straight. And I'll probably get shot down, because people take joy in shooting me down apparently.
And every time someone hurts me for fun, I get closer to the edge of sanity.
And every time, I edge closer to snapping the offenders spine.
And I don't want to. But I can feel it there.
And everyone says I'm not alone, but then they proceed to forget me.
And they say they're there for me, but don't find me bleeding profusely the next day.
You shouldn't have to CALL for help when your best friend is 10 feet down the hall. But apparently, I do. Apparently, when I go into her room at night, no matter how upset I am, I should get lost because in there.
And it's like that with everyone.
Everyone's proverbial room is closed to me unless they need my help.
And when they're done needing help, i'm turfed out.
And when I need help, I get to cry alone, I get to bleed alone, I get to curse alone, I get to drink alone.
And for a short happy period, it wasn't like that.
I wish I'd never met Shane.
You can't know sadness without tasting joy.
I strive so hard to find reasons to continue, and every day, I have fewer reasons.
And HE tells me, "Just go, just leave, no-one will notice. No-one notices if there isn't an uproar before hand."
And the other one says; "Take them to hell with you. They deserve punishment for what they've done."
And I agree.
And maybe one day, when I say "Fine, I will." I won't be lying.
Woe to all who've crossed me on that day, hope that it nevers comes, because there will be a reckoning.
And if that day comes I won't be me.
I'll be HIM.
And it will feel good.
It always feels good.
And that's it for me.
I have no idea why I'm writing this all down, A will read it. And get upset, and I'll feel worse.
But may as well write it down.
After all, "There's no time like the present."