Cold

Everyone wonders why? Why I decide not to party, not to get too close to people. Not to fall in love easily. And why?
Or rather, why am I constantly the puppet you all choose to play with? The one broken doll on the shelf you decide to take down and toss around again. I get it, you find me intimidating. But you know what? I can’t for the life of me understand why. I don’t want what you have. I just want what I deserve, which should have NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU. Yet you constantly troll everything I do and do your damnedest to watch me fall. what I definitely do not need is people saying they’re my friends when secretly all they do is manipulate and scheme to take me down. Does my existence threaten you all that much?

You’re all like toddlers. The second someone else plays with your toy you resurface from the other room and demand it back.

And then men, you all say you want a woman like me until you get me. Then it’s all “I can’t date a model,” “I need you to change this,” or even better, what if I really can’t have kids? What the hell do I have to offer someone besides my random neurosis?
And then I watch taken men, married men, message me all the time trying to hook up… How can I trust anyone?

You wonder why I don’t bother. Why I’m cold, why inside I’m hurt and detached from feeling. It’s because people like you do shit like this. You all must think I’m positively simple. Maybe I should just get a frontal lobotomy and live the rest of my life with the only pleasure being the change in flavour of the jello I’m so feebly shovelling into/onto my face…

We live in a cruel world, and despite what you all think, I’m sensitive as hell. I put up a big shell but that’s because inside it is an ocean of tears I’m unable to dry. Excuse me while I spend the night in a teary eyed, solemn contemplation.

Photo credit randy porter

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