Me Rambling

I hate to blame this on anyone,

but it's all your fault

I remember hellish wailing, my intestines being pulled out of my abdomen by barbed wire, seeing chunks I hoped weren't necessary for survival come out of my mouth, and tears whose purpose I wished were only to drown me and end it....crying on my knees near my bed...

calling your phone

calling your phone

calling your phone

knowing that you looked at it all 26 times and saw my name on caller ID and didn't want to pick up...

wondering if it broke your heart when you heard my messages full of tears and hyperventilating, "I'd do anything for you to love me again. Please love me."

How it felt when you fucked her and I was at home crying for you...remembering your words, "I'll never break your heart."

No, you didn't break it, you bashed it into a thousand pieces. Much like a shattered vase, no matter how hard you try or what glue you use, you'll always be missing pieces.

Who wants that?

I'm broken and no one will ever want me unless I find those slivers. The pieces that will make my bitterness vanish. My anger disappear. My life complete.

Won't someone get on their knees and help me? Help me look for them?

Hold my hand and watch me cry with loving eyes b/c...you don't know how to fix me?

I don't know how to fix me.

I start with prayer but damnit I'm afraid to heal. Like a scraped knee that itches like hell before it fully recovers...you'd rather just leave the scab. I'm afraid to heal. What will I do then?

You're right Jeff....what will I do when I'm satisfied? I can't imagine being there..and that scares me.

Maybe I should take a chance. But I just can't help but stay in this rut b/c it feels so good to hurt. And that's so wrong. And I'm so sick. And God, I want to heal...I have to. I'm terrified not to. Disaster is ahead and I need to make a U-ey before I fall over the edge.

You, in the passengers seat, how do you feel about driving for a while? I seem to have tied my own hands behind my back. I can't do this on my own.