I’m not sad, I just keep losing motivation.
Give me something real to hold on to and maybe I’ll stay, but I feel nothing.
If I am nothing, I have nothing to give.
If I have nothing to give, I have no reason to be a leech to the rest of the world.
Your helpful reasons are kind, but simply not tangible enough.
I wish no one told me that my eternity might be alright either way, because it was the only thing that held me.
Okay that’s not entirely true, not really.
I had hope, but I hate it.
Hope is an ugly emotion, turning from pure to disappointing in a flash.
Hope is what breaks me, or has broken me.
Because I’m not sad, I’ve got shattered hope in it’s place.
And I’ve stopped telling people that I feel like a shard of glass hanging by a thread on the ceiling, and I’ve stopped telling people that I think hope is a pair of scissors.
A life without a purpose and sense of direction isn’t one I want to accept, but maybe I was wrong when I said everyone has a purpose.
I can’t stand allowing anyone else to think that way though, so I’ll take it back and pretend it’s something that only affects me.
If I’m honest I made it farther than I ever thought I would, I didn’t think I’d get to live much at all.
So here I am, loving the fact that I got a taste of breathing easily and being busy and liking myself.
I got to feel something for a while, I had people who wanted me for long enough and hard enough to forget this lack of feeling.
I know the high has worn off and people have lives to live, I’m not anyone’s responsibility.
So nothing lasts and most people learn to cope with it, but I’m not that strong.
I wish I could be a better example, but I turned out exactly like everybody else.
Yearning to be content in a world not built for contentment, and I’m not sure I can accept that anymore.
But don’t worry, I won’t do anything about it.
I’m not usually the type that’s all talk and no action, but maybe it’s for the best that I am right now.
All I’m saying is I’m just another human like other humans, except I don’t do the whole human thing as well as the rest of them.
All I’m saying is I’m probably not going to fling myself off a bridge any time soon, I just find comfort in thinking about it.
So again I’ll remind you not to worry, if you were.
I’m not happy, but I’m not sad either.
That’s better than the familiar ugly heaving and empty pain in my stomach, the one that makes me want to rip my intestines out.
Call it progress or don’t, but nothing hurts and that’s something to write home about.