tired, upset and fuckin scared
The melancholy life of the Psychotic wannabe Rock Star.
You know... Talk is cheap. Let's see what comes next. I want to be there. I want to look and see why I can't have my cake and eat it. I want to look into your eyes and feel the pain. I want to see what you'd do knowing that it was a lie. I want you to look at me when you break my heart. And then leave as I try to pick up the pieces and pray that the damage won't make the healing impossible. Because guess what, one look at my face and everyone's going to know that there's something wrong.
You really want to see what I'm made of don't you? You really want to try my patience. You're in for a ride. I may have a lot of patience but push me too far and you'll wish you'd never met me. Which in all honesty would be a sad day for the both of us.
I give up. I really do give up. Honestly, I really really give up. I can't handle having to deal with so many things at once and have the one person that I thought I could depend on just live in a whole different world oblivious to the kind of pain and ache I feel each and every day. To feel like I'm completely and utterly unimportant. Like I don't know any better, or I don't care. It's not like that. I don't want to give up but you know what, it's getting harder and harder each and every day.
I'm afraid. I'm close to freaking out. Because I don't think that I'll make it. Grades aside, I'm afraid that I've missed the deadlines. I don't know if I can handle it at this point. I'm supremely afraid that I won't be able to go back and get what needs to be done well... done.