Living for someone else

I have this constant war in my mind, where all the numbers are fighting with my will to live. And if I had any saying, I'd say let it continue until I die of starvation, I don't care. I don't care about my quality of life and I don't care about my life. I never wanted it in the first place.

It's true, if you didn't know. Already as a young child I threatened with suicide and expressed how mean I thought my parents had been to bring me to life. I thought they were selfish to have children. I often said that I didn't ask to get born. I never wanted this life, I think I've hated it since my first breath.

But it's not that simple anymore. I don't want it, but at the same time I do. I want... certain things, certain people, but not the whole concept. I'm tired of fighting every single day and night, I'm so fed up with it that I just simply put down my battle axe and sat down in the dirt. I surrender. I won't try to kill myself, because I don't want to die. I just don't want to live either, and if I need to constantly fight for my right to breathe, then I say let me die.

In a way, I invite death. I invite agony too. Self destruction, mostly. It's my way of surviving and right now, I'm back to only surviving instead of living, but I'm not trying to survive, I just want to make it somewhat bearable. Like... I don't know. I'm still being pulled into darkness, and it's like I just learned to understand that fighting it is pointless.

I don't care where I end up. Where it takes me. I will never be prepared, but I will always know that it will always get worse. And I don't think I can take it, damn it I'm not even gonna try. I just let it consume me. I'm not gonna try to make my anxiety go away other than for the minute. I'm not gonna try to get better from my eating disorder, I want to make it worse. So bad that I'll end up in a hospital dangerously underweight.

I'm not gonna stop drinking, or even try to take it down a notch. Instead I increase my intake as I deem it necessary. I'm never gonna stop smoking. I don't cut that often anymore, but it doesn't matter if that gets worse too. School can fail or work out, I don't care. It's good as long as it lasts.

I just have one wish, one highly intense longing and that's the only reason that I haven't given up completely. It's why I drink, cut, starve, smoke, because if I stop, I wouldn't be able to endure the pain of not being near him. He's my reason to still go on living, and I refuse to give up for as long as his heart is beating. Even if it's not beating for me. Cause it could, one day, if I'm just patient enough. Stubborn enough, hoping hard enough.

I just need to be alive for him. If not anything else, I would never want to cause him the devastating pain it would be if I died. I'm a close friend of his, possibly something more, and he's definitely suffered enough. Also, I don't want to hurt anyone else the same way. It's not just his heart that would be broken if I died and it's sad, but sometimes I have to remind myself of that.

The only life I want, is one with him. Everything else is not an option. Everything else is just surviving, hardly dealing, it's not living. I can't make my life decent without him. Am I putting a lot of pressure on him, or what? Not that I would tell him, not straight up, at least. How could I put such a burden on him? Him, that I love so endlessly much. It would basically be a threat, that if he's not with me I will not be able to go on living. And I don't want that. I'd sooner be dead than start throwing threats like that at him. But I have to vent somewhere.

What a piece of shit that must make me. But I'm just so terribly broken. I don't function that well. And I know that even if we would end up together, I wouldn't be cured, he wouldn't be cured, rain wouldn't automatically turn into sunshine. But maybe, it could make me see some kind of beauty in that rain? Maybe, just maybe, our shared brokenness would be better than as it is now, apart.

It's just a dream, and I doubt it will ever come true. Though, it is the only thing keeping me alive, and I just have to fight for it. Just knowing that every breath I take is for him, suddenly makes the next breath a lot easier to take. And the next one after that. I'm living for someone else now, and although it's not ideal, it's something. Cause somehow it's better than living completely without hope. I've been there, and it's the worst state of survival. And I just know, that for as long as he's alive, I will be too.