“Pathetic P”

...I screwed up for the final time and I own it. Even to this last time when we had plans and even when my anxiety and fears crumbled me and I curled up in a ball you gave me yet another out...and I couldn’t just get up, go to the bathroom, puke my fears out and go to dinner with you. I’ve squandered so many chances it’s absolutely insane.

My heart is on fire and not in the good way. It’s charred from self sabotage and regret. I acknowledge my consistent blunders and lack of actions. Sorry will never cut it. Also I’m such a weak person that I don’t have the strength to reach out to you out of fear of silence or rejection. It’s absolutely idiotic and I know it.

Even now as I think about how you sent me a shocked and blushing emoji and all I could type was “why”. Then I just said something like “I’m glad you’re happy” and now...nothing. Can’t even reach you in the way...can’t even see you. I deserve it and I’m accepting it. It’s painful as hell and it’s my own damn fault. It’s torture, the likes of which I deserve in so many levels.

I’m working on being the person you fell for and it’s proving to be difficult as all get out. Truly as difficult as it gets. I know you’re better off, or at least I’m acknowledging it to myself. I wish I remembered what state I was in when I was him. I’d give up the world to him again...I’d tear down the sky to make him me again. You flood my thoughts and it’s killing me everyday.

All the memories. All the good and bad. All the nights waking up and just taking you in with my eyes and heart and having a smile glued into my face. God damn its atrocious how fucked things are. So I toss and turn. Sleep in 15 minute intervals. Try to push away the dreams and memories. All to not feel like my insides are being shredded. I curl up in this blanket and clench my eyes shut to keep the tears from pouring. This is my ritual now.