You could be happy, I hope you are. (WARNING: Emotional Word Vomit)

You asked me what he hates the most about himself
but it just made me think about myself (because I'm selfish like that.)

I hate how horrible I've become. Or maybe I didn't become this horrible, maybe I was always this horrible.

But  being   a   monster   is   one   thing,   not   being   able  to   slay   that   monster   is   another.

But I can't I can't I can't I cannot seem to find the power within me to do anything about anything. So I'm stuck in this boat, just floating wherever this imaginary driver, or the current take me, and I don't even know how to use the steering wheel. And it hurts that I can't look in the mirror anymore, or look through my pictures, or just think about who I am anymore, without wanting to rip my 'self'' apart and mould it until it's something beautiful again. And hope that one day we'll all be happy and better people again and not 'broken' any longer, is the only thing getting me through it, which doesn't make sense, because it shouldn't just be a hopeful thought or a useless plan getting me through this, shouldn't it be an action?

And I can't even talk anymore, I don't even have anything to talk about anymore, because everything just reminds me of well... everything that was. And seeing you makes me want to hide, or maybe just be something else, but neither of those are good ideas so I just bite my lip and talk to them. And I can't tell whether we're going to stay and whether you want us to, or whether I want us to. And I'm happy sometimes, but then I realise that I have so little now compared to then, and my monster growls, and I become greedy and start wanting things again and think that I'm above them oh why do i think that I'm a fool.

(And why can't I cry anymore?)

(Your rages are chipping away at me.)

 
So I'm just stuck in this routine of chaos and uncontrollable comments, and I'm sorry I call you disgusting or I tell you I hate you, that's just my heart talking to my brain, or the other way around, I can't tell anything anymore.

And for once maybe it's me that needs someone.

And I get upset and then I get mad at myself for being upset and then it's just a constant cycle of anger and sadness and I can't do anything because every part of me is fighting with the rest but nothing's winning.

 And I think I'm getting better, and I tell myself so, and I say if she gets better I'll get better. But maybe that's the wrong way around, perhaps you already did get better and I'm the one keeping you down.

Maybe I'm the limitation.

I'm sorry.

There's a monster inside of me that deserves needs to be slain.

xoxo Camelgirl