retrospective

It's been more than a month since my hope was torn and shredded into tiny little pieces, stomped on, then lit on fire, and with time, my vision is a little clearer, and all I can think is, "What was I thinking?"

Oh, don't get me wrong. I am still enamored with [redacted]. Who could actually know her and not be? But it's clear, oh so very clear, oh so painfully clear, that she is way out of my league. That I would've been nothing but a burden and a hindrance to her. That she deserves way better than the pathetic pitifulness that I have to offer.

She made the right decision.

The future looks extraordinarily bleak for me right now. I can't see beyond that dim horizon, and I fear that whatever is beyond it is more darkness. Perhaps even something worse than the oppressive gray that I'm swimming in right now, that clings and weighs me down.

I just have this feeling that where I'm at now is not survivable. That if I have to wallow in this despair for much longer, I'm just not going to make it. Really, this is beyond desperation, even.

All I have to do now, is wait, and if I'm lucky (which I haven't been), nothing worse will happen to me before the inevitable kicks in.

paralyzed

I don't want to go home. But I don't want to be here. I currently feel extremely ill-equipped to deal with life right now.

make the pain go away

I'm really hurting here. I'm tired, I'm lonely, and there's nothing on the horizon to make me think things are going to change any time soon.

No matter how well I manage to get things running, minor details always manage to escape me, and these things end up spiraling out of control, and eventually taking down anything I accomplished. Whenever I think I did something well, it seems that I manage to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

Just when I think everything is going to work out, something comes out of nowhere, clocks me on the head, and everything manages to go wrong in the worst possible way.

---

After all the defeats I've suffered, you would think that I'd just stop trying, and just lie here and rot. That actually sounds like a reasonable plan of action, since I fuck up anything I try and start. And yet my soul can't rest. Even in this pit of despair, my soul writhes, struggling to strive again for some form of sunlight. Even here buried in the rubble of my folly, something in me stirs, believing that somehow everything will turn out right in the end.

Sometimes I wish I could just kill this part of me, so that I could rest, and wallow in my mediocrity. But I know this is the only reason why I've survived for as long as I have. I know for a fact that I've suffered worse than this, and I still managed to survive. For better, or for worse, I have always managed to survive.

I don't know whether I should be happy about that or not.