Broken Doll

I wish you would let me help you.

I wish you would let me love you.

I wish you would let me in.

I doubt myself for believing in you.

Darlene constantly questions it, every time I mention it, why I still worry about you.

It’s a dozen small things. A year ago you sent out the munch reminder every Monday, without fail. Then it slipped to Tuesday. Sometimes late on Wednesday. A couple times not til Thursday morning. This week you forgot to send a reminder at all.

You not only flake out on me — which I could at least sort of understand where that was coming from — I know you have completely flaked on at least one other. Namely Sarah, on that goddamn database project.

Seems like you haven’t been sleeping. Some of the timestamps of your list posts show really odd send times. Say, 2 or 3 in the morning on a weekday. I seem to remember the time stamp on a munch reminder showing as sent at 4am! You only used to complain of insomnia when you were stressed about something. So what keeps you up at night?

I have never known you to be an irresponsible, wishy-washy, noncommittal flake.

So maybe all of this only indicates that you’ve become an asshole.

Or maybe it indicates that you are really, really unhappy.

See what I mean? How can I know whether to write you off or worry? If you are just being a self-absorbed prick then there’s nothing I owe you. But if you’re in trouble how dare I just walk away from you and leave you to drown.

So.

If I stand up for myself and call you out for treating me like shit — I’m a bitch, or immature, or unable to “let go” (whatever that means), or pushing you away.

If I roll over and let you get away with it — I’m passive and unworthy of respect or even of your notice.

Of course I’m never allowed to be angry about being maligned or mistreated, because that only shows that I’ve got issues.

Yup. Of course. Being abused by you all is all my fault. Right then.

Yes, I’m looking at you Kading — and Luann, and Heidi. And god knows how many others.

By the way, an apology would go a fucking long way. But it damn well better be sincere, and if you’re going to argue with me on it to start with, you’d better be groveling by the time it’s over.

Fuck you all.

…or so says Sarah. I guess she liked the photo «« over there.

I am too pissed off and frustrated and tired to collect my thoughts. Maybe later. Maybe tomorrow.

I haven’t slept in about 10 days or so. Not that I’m not exhausted. I’ll stay up til 12.30am or so dinking around online waiting for my body and mind to settle. Then I’ll go to my bed and read til 1.30am or so… still waiting. Crying sometimes. Mostly waiting. I can turn off the light but whether or not I sleep is up in the air. Monday night it was past 2.30am at least — after a while I just stopped looking at the clock.

Sometimes I’ll wander back to the computer. Sometimes I’ll see him on AIM, still online and active. Some small comfort. At least I’m not the only one who can’t sleep.

Creeping numbness. Honestly it’s getting to a point where I can’t tell if I’m calm, numb, or just too damn exhausted. Or waiting. Sometimes I start to feel like something is about to happen — that though all of humanity may be completely oblivious to it, the universe is quietly holding its breath.

It all seems so fucking final. Chances that this letter will even stir him to action, nevermind action that gives even some small positive result, is slender and thin. If or when I give it to him, it may well be the last time I ever even see him. I’m not sure I can handle that. Sometimes I’m too fucking tired and numb to care. Sometimes he is the only thing that keeps the sheer dead weight of everyone and everything else from crushing me.

God I’m tired.

Seriously. You have all, from the beginning, acted towards me as if loving him were some gigantic character flaw. You know who you are. If that’s how you truly feel, I pity your lovers. Should they so much as go on a two-week business trip, they’re going to come back to find all their stuff dumped out on the lawn.

And yet I’m the one who’s fucked up. Sure I am.