11 April, 2011
This is it.
Is it ever possible to feel so wound up that one word could be fatal? The next word someone says to me could cause me to shoot like a rocket, exploding in a flurry of tears and anger and shooting stars and broken promises. I want to shout, to scream at the injustice of it all. I want to be able to run, as fast as it's possible to run, and to curl up in a ball and watch the world dwindle away. I feel trapped, as though everyone can see my true colours but all I can see are facades. I feel like the only one unmasked at a Masquerade. I feel like I'm staring through everyone else, like I'm transparent, like no-one can hear me. I'm screaming to be let out of this box, before it tips over and smashes, cutting into me mercilessly. I cannot break free of the bonds holding me down, trying to force me into a different shape, to concur with everybody else's wishes. I can't be who everyone wants me to be. I'm not the girl I was before, I'm not the girl I'm going to be, I'm just venting. I feel like I'm being held down, like I really need to just go. I need to go. I don't need anyone. I can't have anyone dragging me down anymore; I know people love me. Some people. But maybe sometimes, just sometimes love isn't enough. I need someone who knows what I feel, who is ready to take me as I am, every single day. Not just the person I am with them. I AM real, to my friends, to my boyfriend, to my family. BUT...it's a different person each time. I don't know what I am anymore, how can I tell when my mood changes like the posters on my walls? I'm keeping it together when I want to scream my heart out, to rage at the unfairness of the world, to have whatever everyone else seems to have; control. A million people feel the same as me right now, and STILL I feel alone. There are three other people in this house, plus four animals, and STILL I feel alone. There are 6.6bill people on Planet Earth, and I feel like no-one can hear me. When we were little, we said we'd love to be invisible, so we could stay up later. When we were older, we said we'd love to be invisible so we could hear people speak the truth about us. When we were older still, we said we'd love to be invisible so we could watch the object of our affections. As we get older now, we say we'd love to be invisible so we could do what we want. But when will everyone learn that really, being invisib;le is the worst thing in the world? No-one is there to mend your broken heart. No-one cares enough to stop and search for you. Even though you can't see me, I still want to be touched. I still want to feel loved. I need it. I'm sorry.