One of Those Days

Dead inside.

The feeling of being alone forever.

Cold. Still.

Only the empty hollow, of what was once a heart. 

Now it is a shell, A cavity void of life or vitality.

It is as unwanted as the body that onced lived and housed it.

Alone.

Having tried to muster up the courage to reveal a scary truth, only to have the truth meet with an ugly reality.

In light of these details, one would be a fool not to feel alone.

Yet, holding out hope seems plausible. It seems right.

But when beating one's head against the wall repeatedly does nothing but cause more suffering, what is left to do?

Walls cannot be broken down so easily, this is obvious, but when the other refuses to give one the chance to try and reveal the person one truly sees within the other, who gains?

No one.

Everyone loses.

Everyone suffers.

Everyone is hiding for fear of hurting and no one wants to hurt, but sometimes, in order to be happy a little vulnerability is necessary.

A little sacrifice is needed.

A little openess...

A little more effort...

Just a little hope...

When one thinks about the other, one holds back tears...

One cannot cry because one is physically incapable of showing any kind of sadness.

No matter how much one is hurting, the tears will never come.

They will never leave salty streams down one's cheeks nor will they leave the infamous dry shadows that reaveal to outsiders the pains suffered and released.

Never.

However, one tries.

One tries so hard to make the other see what one wants and how much one really cares.

The only thing that the other can see is how terrible the other believes the other's self to be.

One will not believe this self perception because one knows better...

One knows better.

One knows that one's desires may be selfish and that one should respect the wishes of the other, but when emotions are so strong that fighting them would be futile, one cannot just let go.

One knows better.

Suffering. 

Quietly.

Trying not to reveal the aches that stress and repulse...

Unable to fully hide these feeling, always wearing everything on the sleeve.

Disappointed.

In one's self...

For feeling...

For showing it...

For revealing it...

For all of the above, when the one's gut knew that no happy ending existed.

No happy ending existed...

One wants it all, but is scared to go for it...

One sits in one's own self pity...

In one's own grief...

In one's own sadness...

Hating one's self for thinking one is not good enough.

For thinking it is all one's fault...

For being selfish...

Picking.

Picking at every minute detail and watching it grow into a giant festering nothing.

Because one cannot be happy...

One doesn't deserve it...

Secrets.

All of one's secrets...

One has shared with the other...the other still doesn't see...

One wants the other's trust and therefore has revealed some of one's darkest pains in the idea of trusting the other...

No.

One knows that walls cannot be broken down overnight...

One knows...

So, one sits.

One wallows.

One knows that the other does not truly understand the deep impact of rejection on one.

The other does not realize the self-esteem of one is directly impacted by those one truly cares for...

One can never admit how one really feels.

One does not want to make the other feel bad...

Feel guilty...

Everything one does, says, goes through, is one's personal problem.

Through no fault of the other does one feel the way one feels.

Without.

Nothing to encourage nor inspire.

Down.

Not coming up and not wanting to...

One just wants to sink into nothingness,

To be consumed by one's own feelings of despair.

One wants to let go.

Without...

The other...

One knows...

One will forever be...

Without.

Guys I have really bad days sometimes, and every thought just comes out morbid. I'm working on it, but geez, sometimes I just wanna curl up with a nice, big, delicious, piece of pie. Yes, I said pie. If you don't like pie, you're obviously an alien...