Heartbreak

I vow to write here every day as long as I am not asleep all day or huddled in a corner. Even if no one ever reads it.
I think I also vow to use an image from Lovely Complex each day to express my feeling.
It's really cold, my hands are cold.
My 21st birthday is coming up. I'm not excited anymore, that bums me out.
I feel like I have nothing to say anymore. I used to be full of words.
I feel like I could do anything and it wouldn't make me happy. So I don't really know what's wrong with me.
I decided to close the doors to my friend. But I feel like a hypocrite, because two want to see me soon. I don't really want to see them. I do but yet I don't feel happy.. with them. My two closest friends have hurt me. I don't know who to trust anymore. I want to open up like a blossom, a lotus perhaps. I want to be as colorful as I feel on the inside. Seeing the world as it is, I see that I wouldn't be able to live a peaceful life as myself. Not even here, an open place.
I hate the words of others.
In my world, venusian. As I said. Paint my face blue. No comments. No compliments. Just bliss.
The only thing that makes me happy is fake romance. I feel like rolling around happily when I look at those things. But then I feel a deep sense of depression because, why am I not looking at us, ourselves, our love, and feeling that? Why do I have to look at fake romances, at other people in love, to feel that lovely sense of bliss?

I feel like I can't speak aloud without feeling incredulous. That's not the right word, honestly. It just sounds like a good sound for what I'm trying to say. I can't speak aloud without feeling doubtful, pensive, and hidden.
I'm suddenly extremely uncomfortable with any sign of affection. It feels like a joke, or an insult. It feels like a slap to the face. It feels embarrassing. I can't swallow it. I can't even stand to hear it. I don't want to laugh at the compliment. It makes it more of a lie.
And yet I crave some sort of closeness. I crave help, attention, love. But love sitting next to you feels like a joke. Love sitting apart feels half-assed. I feel jipped. I feel like I'm being teased.
Wave affection in front of me, try to force me to smile. When what I want is true affection. I feel deficient in vitamin<3. Yet I also crave this alone delving, some cave jumping, spelunking into my heart and soul. Maybe because I've sailed through life for the past year in a hectic frenzy of unhappiness and detached from self. Because of the things that have happened.
I feel like there has been no time to know you, without the pretense of discomfort. Yours or mine. I don't know you so I don't know how to take your laughs or pokes of glee. Of affection. I know what you say, I don't believe you are lying. But something in me doesn't believe in it at all. I believe in my love but I feel so alone sometimes. But I don't even think it's your fault.

I feel embarrassed to blame you. I give you enough to deal with. You are overwhelmed. To tell you that nothing is enough is all I've ever said. So I can't make it worse by saying everything else is never enough as well.

It's damned cold in here.

The thing is, you could affection the hell out of me. But it won't matter, and it won't change it. Because it won't mean anything. The brush of a hand, foot, the compliment or the thing I've grown to despise, a reference to our romantic past in form of nostalgia. It makes me angry to hear a lovesong we used to listen to. Because it doesn't have the same meaning today as it did then. And I want it to, I want you to make it to. But there are no moments left to make memories of, there are no moments or connections with those things that make me feel warm inside anymore. Nothing new is created.
I want to kick apart this desk, sometimes. I want everything around me to be with you. I want every chair to be two-person, I want every table to be in enough proximity to be pressed against you. I want to eat sitting in your lap and I want you to be awake whenever I am in bed with you.
Maybe it's withdrawal symptoms.

Every word feels tense in my throat. I don't even understand why. I think it's because every moment, I feel heartbroken.

And you'll just complain about me being weird.

If I'm a freak I don't care. I just want to get what I want. I want security, happiness, safety, warmth. Even if I have to get it an obsessive, stalker, neurotic retard way that is not normal in any aspect of reality, in any reasonable sense.

Yet I don't feel comfortable in your arms, sometimes. Maybe because I reflect on this weirdness. Weird feeling.

If you just
If you just hold on to me
It would make me happy
If you just hold on to me
I won't feel so empty
With our eyes closed tightly
Just as close as we can be

Like a rainbow made just for me
Oh, these times were precious to me

We would build these happy things
I'd close my eyes and make believe
Like in summer, all the leaves
Blew and all would fall down the stream

Over-running before the fall
And I can't feel
And I can't sleep
And I can't hear
And I can't see

And if I never feel again
And if this is truly the end
Then you better say goodbye

But I loved you
Just wanted you to know
I'm so sorry I never told you so
September, Cranes