i feel too much.

i care worry think hurt and love too much.
i think too many things about too many people, and i will never ever say these things to anyone's face.
so much anonymity, because if i'm being honest, that is just the only way i know how to feel anything without it eating at me, tearing me down and making me feel like i'm just a holding cell for the shit that comes from everyone elses' lives.
i will probably never run out of things to say on these subjects, but they need to be said again and again until i don't feel them anymore.
i can not stop loving you, and i hate you for it because that love has slowly taken away everything i was when i met you and turned me into someone who will never ever be loved the way i love you, the way you love her, the way you actually are capable of caring about someone when you proved to me you couldn't, all because none of it was even real. you feel so lonely and like you are worth nothing, you are in love and it hurts you just like you used to hurt me, yet when i constantly have made myself naive and available to you, no matter WHAT i was feeling, i never mattered for more than the seconds it took for you to get every thing you ever wanted from me.you didn't want my love, now you don't want my friendship, but you want me around, and all i'm left to deduce is i don't mean anything and that's why you can keep me and let it be so empty.because of you and your narcissism i can't believe that anyone really cares about anyone, and i feel stupid for caring still, and i hate that i can't make you as unimportant as you make me feel, so i just fight and fight to keep you in my life, so that i have some semblance left of who i was, and who i thought you were, the only good things that are left out of happiness, and they aren't even real.

and you
i had the chance to let you fill the holes left in my life by others. and you tried so hard, and i felt the right side of the kind of love that before had tried to ruin me. i tried and tried to love you and it just seemed so right but something was missing. that was me, i was just not there. but i tried to be and you knew.you could always tell i wasn't whole anymore, and when all that emptiness gathered up and fought against us, then you stayed, yet somehow later, when we'd gotten past it, you gave up. i don't blame you, because by then it was better that you move on and take all the hope i hadn't robbed from you and run with it. but that's not what i WANTED, and i think- just think, i don't know- that now the reason you're not around is you believe i wanted you gone and thought i would be better off that way.that was not the case, not ever.at the time when i gave up, it was because i didn't think i could do anything better for you. i never ever stopped caring about your happiness, i was just too stupid to know that you were mine.so of course it hurt me when you were gone, and in just trying not to hurt anymore maybe i hurt you some. again, that wasn't my intent.i don't know any kind of magic words that i can tell you to make you see that how i acted was at odds with how ireally felt, that i know i was wrong and that i don't even ask you to forgive me, just believe me and do what you will with the knowledge that i loved you, i care still, and i wish you were still in my life every single day.

i sure know how to pick 'em

I am cohabitating with a spider.I tried to kill it and it ran. I feel badly about this, but not enough to stop wishing for its demise. i can’t sleep and I itch all the time. It won’t come out to just let me kill it. So many tiny creepy crawly problems I can’t nail down to hammer out. You creepy disgusting spider, I wish you were the worst thing keeping me awake.
I dreamt last night that we were swimming, in a beautiful town that was nothing but lakes and water and slides and sunshine. You met me at the top of the slide and suddenly I was not afraid to go down anymore. We enjoyed eachother’s company; we didn’t talk about bad things yet we still had plenty to say. But it was like you weren’t really there. The you I saw was dead or didn’t exist to everyone else, and in some moments I felt you were dead to me as well. But you said “I love you,” and looked at me, and I said the same, then we carried on with our day. The house was on fire, but I found you and then I was safe. When you were gone, it got dark and then I was someplace else, someplace I didn’t want to be.
It reminded me of that day at the greenhouse, when you held my hand and we fed geese and you kissed my forehead while we walked. The sun slanted down on your face in exactly the same way. I miss caring about you and not feeling bad about it. I miss wanting to love you, a feeling that has been replaced by wishing I didn’t care so much. If I could I would fix everything for you, I’d spend my time making your life perfect. I don’t know why I feel this way. But there are too many things separating me from the way I wish I could feel about you. Caring, but detached. Loving, but unobligated. I think the truth here, the one I run from and simultaneously chase after, is that I do love you, the problem being that I only love the you in my dreams, the melding of things that don’t exist anymore and things that never will.

i take

tiny strides toward routes too long.
i am kept from clarity by too much of what is shoveled from other lives on top of the mess that is mine.
i feel an inch tall and to change it i push mountains by motes to make way for troubles i don't see coming.
i fight to compensate for others' ease in giving up and letting go.
i wait too long and i try too hard, for nothing.