Joy Deceases

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I wish my mind didn’t work the way that it does. Of course, sometimes it can be a good thing: hoping for absolutely nothing and awaiting the worst so I won’t have the feeling of stupidity above all my disappointment. But, on the other hand, it can be a horrible thing; horrible and unmanageable once it becomes a routine every time I begin to feel even the slightest bit of happiness. Because every time I have something great in my life, I automatically expect it to turn out negatively. No matter how seemingly perfect something is, I question it.

“Why?”
Then “why?” turns into, “how?”
And “how?” turns into, “for how long?”

As if every bit of happiness I acquire is absolutely fated to have an expiration date.

Now, I can sit here all day until I’m blue in the face and tell stories about how many people have walked out of my life or screwed me over when they made [empty] promises against it. I can try to explain the brokenness I’ve felt over circumstances and situations that pushed me so much closer to the edge than I already was. I can go on and on forever about why I feel like my entire life has been a huge snowball effect of bullshit, deceit, and some more bullshit, but this isn’t the blame game. Ultimately, it comes down to me realizing that no one else’s mistakes should have the ability to influence my decision on how I’m going to feel about something.

But how can I just completely disregard the damage everyone else has left? How can I sit back, smile, and pretend that I’m not expecting the same thing to happen over and over again? I’ve forgiven every single person, but I’ve never forgotten, nor will I ever forget, how each one made me feel. And I think that’s what screwed me up the most.

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Everything Was Nothing.

It’s been about 7 months since you left me for the last time. I tell everyone I’ve moved on. I tell them I don’t love you anymore. I tell them I’m better without you. I tell them I can’t stand the very thought of your existence. I tell them I hope you’re miserable without me. But guess what? I haven’t really moved on. I’ll never stop loving you, just like I promised. I’m a wreck with AND without you. I can’t stand your existence because you’re not part of mine anymore. And I know you’re perfectly fine without me. That’s what sucks the most. I’m sitting here crying uncontrollably and you’re sleeping peacefully with no worries, no regrets, nothing.
You used to think I was overreacting. You thought I was acting insane when you left me.
You’re right, I was going completely insane. My life had just taken a dramatic turn for the worst when you left. How was I supposed to act? You promised me forever, multiple times. You’d always look at me with those beautiful, blue eyes and shake your head and say “I never thought I’d actually get to be with someone like you,” and then talk about how beautiful, amazing, and perfect I was. You’d always write songs about me and surprise me with them when I was sad and sing them to me while you looked at me and smiled and winked after every verse. You always talked about how we’d have the perfect wedding. You’d talk about our children and how we’d be great parents. You’d talk about growing old together; sitting in front of a fireplace, drinking tea, looking at our high school pictures, our wedding pictures, and smiling about how far we’ve come.
You used to comfort me when I would cry. You’d wipe my tears, hold me, and even cry with me. Every single time. My sadness was your sadness. Then everything took a sudden change. You’d sigh when I’d start crying. You’d look at me like “oh my god, she’s crying AGAIN.” You started yelling at me for everything. You started questioning everything about our relationship. You told me I wasn’t the girl you wanted to marry anymore. You told me it was a bother to try to make time for me. You told me you felt obligated to be with me because we wasted so much time. Wasted.
On February 25th, I asked you “Did you even really love me?” You stared at me for a good 5 seconds and said nothing. In your hesitation, I found my answer. I walked out of that room, slammed the door and you came running after me. I saw you. Everyone saw you looking for me. But I had been hurt one too many times and I didn’t care what you had to say. When I lost you, I lost a part of myself. My entire life had been planned out. Our forever was in YOUR hands and you threw that all away without warning, without hesitation, and without caring. So don’t you fucking tell me I was overreacting. Don’t you dare.

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Attached

I have this really weird thing about me. It’s really infuriating, actually, to me and probably the person/people on the other end of this. You see, when I meet somebody new– whether it be a friend or a guy I like– I tend to get a little clingy at first. I want to text them constantly. I want to be around them constantly. I want them to be anywhere and everywhere I’m at. It’s just a little stronger when it’s someone I like or can see myself being with. Because with friends, it’s true what they say: they come and go. So will guys, I guess, but it’s a little different when it’s a mutual like and we want to start a relationship. It’s really tough not to be so clingy.
I try so hard not to be that way, and it’s not even that I get attached to the person, really. It’s more a matter of me getting attached to the idea of the person. I come up with all sorts of scenarios in my head; how things could turn out, dates, things I’d say, things I’d want him to say, etc. But that’s silly, isn’t it? It’s not unrealistic to think that way, but it’s insensible. That’s not a clear way to think early on before a relationship even starts.
It’s even more stupid when we actually start getting somewhere with the “relationship” or whatever you’d call that… I start backing off. I start pushing them away. It’s like a bandaid. You start peeling it off slowly and then completely rip it off. That’s how I push people out of my life. I go from one extreme to the other. Attached, and then I detach. Always.
I just think it’d be easier if I left people before they left me. I’m sure everyone’s intentions aren’t to walk out of my life, but a lot of people have done it so easily. But then I think, “I can’t be the only one with this mindset.”
Copy and paste all these words and implant them into someone else’s brain. They could be just as scared as I am. And just like I’m always incredibly afraid people will leave me, they’re also terrified. And by detaching myself from them or anything about them, I could be crushing every bit of hope they had left in anyone.
But wait… It’s also insensible to grieve over every loss in my life and get so worked up when I, myself, started doing the exact same thing.

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