Member-only story
You’re Not the One, But That’s Okay
Oh, I got hit right in the chest again.
Hi, it’s me again. I know you’re getting tired of me entering the picure, but I had a few things I wanted to say — or, well, I guess in this case write.
I need to apologize.
I’m sorry for being a mess. I’m a disaster stitched up in human skin. Half of the time, I feel like something’s detrimentally wrong with me because I feel too deeply. The other half of the time, I wish I could step out of my skin and just depart this life as a ghost going to the afterlife (if there even is such a thing).
I’m not trying to scare you. This isn’t a cry for help. This is just how I feel.
I know everyone thinks I’m crazy. Or homicidal. A sociopath, a liar, a stain on the fabric of humanity. I can’t get over how much I loathe myself and that monster I have to face in the mirror each day.
Yes, I know. It sounds terrible, but that’s just how I feel.
I don’t want anything from you. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was trying to claw something out of you. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry I got too close when you’d already asserted your boundaries enough to let silence bloom in the air.
