Jamaica Farewell


  I’ve had crazy thoughts this week. Thoughts about life and death, the big stuff. My brain currently feels like it is swollen badly inside of my skull. I figured it might be my words fighting each other in my brain and that maybe it was time to update the old blogging machine. Maybe I just need some Ibuprofen.

  Justin is officially gone to Peru and I’m sitting in the house friendless and alone. Every day.

  Not only was he my lover, but as I’m increasingly becoming aware of, he was my only friend in the world. That is a scary thought. It’s a lot of weight to put on someone else shoulder’s. I fear the day, a year from now, when he comes back and I still feel strongly for him. I think like most people, he will have moved on from our dalliance. After all, it was only five months and a fetus. No reason to linger. To me though, it was a monumental accomplishment.

  Going back to my robot feelings for a moment, the fact that I had feelings for another human being at all is something that I still marvel at. At my age, I have moved past the magical “soul mates” feeling that most people in their 20’s have, but he certainly made me feel that giddy “this person is perfect for me” feeling. A feeling that I can’t simply dismiss.

  But now that that’s over, now what?

Who is going to text me in the morning and tell me something silly?

Who is going to speak in hillbilly accents with me?

Who is going to poke my muffin top and tell me he likes it?

Most of all… Who is going to hug me when I’m sad?

Most days I want to put a gun to my head and end it all.

   I have increasing feelings of comfort in the fact that one day I could just slip away into the void and not feel anything at all. They’re scary thoughts and that’s why I am choosing to share them with the strangers of the internet.

Yes, I have a doctors appointment to hopefully help me cope with these feelings, but also just spilling it to my non reading subscribers helps in some weird way.

   The other scary thought, and this is the one that is scary to me, but I’m sure not for anyone else…I am too chicken shit to ever try and kill myself. I feel very strongly that I am worthless, and life is worthless and there simply is no point to it other than to recreate and further the spread of the human race, but I just can’t actually sit down and do it.

   The only times I’ve ever been happy were when I was actively working towards some goal. The problem now is that I have no goals. I have failed at most of the things I’ve done so I see no reason to try for anything else. The pain of failing far outweighs the pain of not even trying.

   Sitting home in my comfy chair and drinking myself to sleep every night is far easier than putting myself out there.

   I’ve been thinking that I would like to do something with my life that would help others. Something dramatic. I’m on the marrow donor list, but that’s a slim chance of actually getting to donate. Volunteer firefighting was today’s thought, but I’m too soft in the middle. Sure, I could work out, but I want, no, I NEED to do something right now before I suffocate.

   What would you do?


Posted on June 14, 2014, in I've got the feels..., Word Diarreah... and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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