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Was that love or merely a glimmer oh what could’ve been?
The latter?
I though so.
I’ve never been ‘in love’ – I’ve though I have – many times. Come to think of it every girl I’ve ever been with I have though for a moment, no matter how brief, that she could be the one. In the moments after sex when you lie in bed, holding each others naked bodies, reflecting on the intense love you’ve both shared – that’s the moment that it hits me. “She’s the one” the voices in my head screech “Don’t let her go!”
Somehow, though, I always do let them go. I say the wrong thing and offend them and watch as they slam the door in my face or tell them I love them after I’ve known them a week and wait for the call they promised but never will make. I sometimes get an urge to buy those books that promise losers in love like myself a guaranteed relationship. I have relationships, though – it’s just that they don’t last.
The longest I’ve ever clung onto a girl was three months. Three lousy months! That’s about all I am worth of anyone’s time I reckon. I don’t know but I assume I get boring quickly. I like routine – is that such a crime? I’ve taken to talking to people in the Internet – other people as desperate as me, they seem keen and eager – but the sad truth is I will never actually meet any of them. I got close to meeting a girl I met online once, I waited at a train station for three hours for her only to get a text message saying “sorry – I wont be there”. I never heard from her again.
She actually changed her phone number and email address just to avoid having to talk to me again. Chip, chip, chip – my self confidence is ebbed away bit by bit. It hurt me badly – not on the outside, that I could deal with – but on the inside. No amount of anti-septic cream and plasters can heal mental scars. There’s no cure for people like me. People who wake up every morning thinking “I am worthless”
I took to cutting myself for a while – some idea I had about expressing the pain I had internally, externally. It didn’t last long, it was a fad. It got me some attention though – I think I secretly craved attention at that point. I met a girl called Debbie, she told me she worked part time as a Samaritan and could help me. She did – she got me to stop cutting myself which I suppose was a good thing – we became friends. I needed a friend then, I had become something of a recluse, only leaving the house to do things I HAD to do.
She got me socialising again, we went to bars and restaurants and sometimes just hung out at each others houses – it was fun. For a while. After a month or so, when we were both a bit drunk, I put my arms around her and began kissing her deeply. She retorted by pushing me away and screaming. I told her I loved her. She told me she was married. There was an old guy she lived with, I assumed it was her father – it was her husband. Filthy gold digging w***e.
So here I am again, back to my old wrist-slicing ways with a failed relationship and a broken heart under my wing. I’ve become a recluse yet again, I haven’t seen my so-called friends in about 2 months now. I’ve given up attending social occasions- though they still bother to invite me. I guess I’ve become a sociopath.
Now I know what it feels like to give up. Abandon all hope. Drifting towards a plane I don’t want to be. A state of mind that kills my every mood. Teetering on the brink of insanity, caught in a purgatory of mentality. Drifting towards a dark gate. An inscription that reads words so real to me.
“Abandon every hope, ye who enter here.”
I'm not sure.
Ya what eva, just I thought that this was little too normal to have any impact, it being such an over used topic on the forums in particular.
> Haha, just try to lord your knowledge of literature a little
> less next time. Sounds, y'know, a little, um arrogant?
I know and I am - oh and "lord" is a great expression, I may have to pinch that word.
>
> Wrist slicing and love? Well written. Trouble is, it really, really,
> really has been done.
I know its a tried and tested formula but subtleltys just dont cut it any more when talkign about love and depression. You've got to be very in-your-face - though I dont know if you've noticed I have been experimenting a great deal lately - this was just a one-off traditional piece.
Wrist slicing and love? Well written. Trouble is, it really, really, really has been done.
Greg D y k e
Anyway nice and dark Kyz. Liked the description of Debbie. :)
> dude, i didn't twig this wasn't totally a "real life" post
> until i read the replies.
>
> i wish i had your gift with worded expression Paradox.
> excellent stuff.
It's called "Realism" for future reference (If you're going to be a literature critic) - its basically expressing fiction is a factual way - like faux documentaries can be seen as realism.
Cheers for the compliments, you've made me blush.
Anyway, as for this piece, I enjoyed it. First person pieces always work much better when you're trying to get across the emotion of a piece, for me.
i wish i had your gift with worded expression Paradox.
excellent stuff.