~skyelinegod

I'm so tired, and I'm not quite sure of what. So tired and not sure how to express it. My whole life is a lie, even the words on this page. What I tire of is known to me surely as how to express it. The truth; yes the truth is I fear to express it. Not the fear of letting 'it' out... no more than the fear of keeping 'it' in. No, it's a fear seeded far deeper than transitory pain. I fear I've lost the means to express it. That I've lost the gift of words that for so long I've neglected. I fear that the words that pour from my finger tips are empty and heartless, a vain, desperate attempt to regain what was lost; regain what once was found. Yes, that is my pain; I fear the inevitable truth: I've lost myself.

Intelligence was once the crutch that braced my whole life and I fear it's absence more than any man could imagine. Death seems a welcome alternative to having lost what was once my most treasured possession. Not family nor friend, no woman -comitted or otherwise- could instill such a feeling of loss and fear upon me. No, this isn't a pain of losing a loved one, it is the pain of losing yourself. Of having abanddoned yourself in an ignorant and desperate attempt to survive. Though, as all things, it has caught up with me.

That is my fear, plainly in English that all will understand.

I fear having sacraficed a part of myself that I may never again attain.

My words are empty. My words are empty thus my soul is empty.

Mindy. Melinda Sue McCloskey. Melinda Sue Ettison. I saw my entire life with you. My world was paved and clear, a painting of pure vivacity upon an imperfect canvas. No one guessed it, not even I. A martyr who died in vain, a saviour that saved the damned. You gave me purpose and reason like no other ever has; you of all people. And I hate you, I hate you for it. For every moment that I spend thinking about you, for every tear I've shed. I hate you.. and I love you. Only you, Serendipity.

I am worn thin my friends. My pain too transparent, no longer mysterious and in depth. I no longer offer the grandeur I once did, no longer offer pretty words of absolution and finality. No longer can I speak of masochism, perfection or ultimate purpose. I am thin, and I am cold. I care not about your errs or your woes. Your life inconsiquencial to me as the time of day. I am tired.. I am worn, and I am plain. I cannot flatter with words of self discovery or sacraficing, no longer can I offer you my love or my friendship as a crutch for your own life.

I don't love you, I have nothing to offer you. My love is old and brittle, delicate and you've let it fall. You hold no place in my heart. Sean, Bill. You are nothing to me but ghosts of the past. You forgot about me and in turn I've forgotten about you. I tired of you, I tired of the strife needed to keep you in my arms. I loved you, I loved you as friends, as family. I loved you more than any woman to date can claim and you idiots left me to wither away. Selfish fucks..you disgust me. If your life has no room for me than so be it. If your sex, your drugs, and all that you deem essential in your life means that you must sacrafice one of the only people that have ever truly cared about you, than I will accept those terms. I was sacraficed, and now I am gone. I hold no lover for the dead and surely you are both dead to me. I sacrafice my love for you and in exchange I am granted peace. Peace of mind, if not peace of heart. My heart aches surely, for the times of old when you were both in my life. When we sat in my room as friends and family might. The games we played, the many lives we lived, the many people we became together. I yearn for a time when strife was nothing but a word; rather than an actuality. I yearn for a time when Rune and Ess were brothers. I yearn for a time when we dreamed of the internet being our play thing. I miss writing our ideas with great haste; lest we forget them. I miss you both, but I do not need you; I do not want you. In exchange for that which brought me both happiness and strife, I am given peace. Peace of mind. I sleep not worrying whether or not you hate me for trying to guide your life back to where it's supposed to be; without worry of whether or not we will argue till blood vessels pop just to settle the debate about which of us is alpha male -though always guised as an arguement of no particular relevence. Without you I have no strife, and thus I am at peace. I do not want you back, and thus I will not come back this time through. You have underappreciated me one too many times, given too little value to my friendship and now I revoke it. If it is so worthless to you, than live without it. Maybe in twenty or thirty years you will regret your decision; just as likely you will forget my existance. Either way, your life will go on without me; and mine without you. Though I have this to say, I'd rather die than sacrafice my pride.