May 5,2024

Dear Always,

I hope your month is going better than mine. I would say lol but I don’t actually think it’s funny. I’m tired of faking everything… feeling like the only place that actually makes sense is a place that doesn’t exist? You probably get that? Or not. I don’t know… honestly, I’m just tired of all of it.

Sometimes I feel like you’re this sick joke I play on myself to convince myself that all the hell is worth it? That god is still real? That my whole life wasn’t just some waste of space? Like “Oh I mean something to someone, so I have to stay?” When in all reality, I don’t believe any of it anymore.

It’s complicated because I still believe in God but at the same time I don’t? Like I know he’s there deep down but I just don’t feel it? Maybe that doesn’t make sense or maybe it does. But everyone thinks they have me all figured out… I’d like to know how they have me figured out when I can’t even figure myself out?

I feel myself die inside a little more every day. Then everyone wants me to keep my head held high like being a chronically ill, fucked in the head, wreck isn’t enough of a reason to not want to exist? I can’t get a job because of my health, people hate on me for not getting a job? I hate on myself? I just want out of this place. And i can’t… why? Because! You need to have this in check and this and you’ll never be that independent?

The jokes aren’t jokes. It isn’t just the physical health that’s taking its toll… I swear I can’t get away from the memories. And they just keep getting worse. It’s always medical this and medical that? What about what they did? What I never have five seconds to process? What about what he never has five seconds to process? What about all the other things? Do we just forget it? I can’t… does that make me a horrible person? Set me up for failure because I’m trying to figure it out? Or it’s just in my head, right?

Safe travels until our stars align my love…