Hate

I hate myself for trusting you. I hate myself for loving you. I hate myself for believing all the lies you told me. I hate myself for being so hurt because of you. I hate you for making me this way. Love comes around only once in a lifetime, and I wasted all my love on you. The way I loved you, the way I gave myself to you, I will never be able to do it again. I gave you my all, and you trampled on me, left me for dead and just walked away. I hate you. The things that are now in my past kill me. Remembering all the things we went through together, all the promises you made and never kept, everytime I think about it, it's like i'm dying again. And you don't even care. You left. You're gone. You're not coming back. And the truth of the matter is, even though you said you loved me, said you cared and that you would always be there for me, you never really cared. To you it was just a game, to see if you could get what you wanted. And you got it. Now you're gone. And I realize that reminicsing and remembering all the things of the past are only making it more painful, but it's not something I can stop. We have been every in this town together, we have talked about everything there is to talk about with each other, and every single thing around me, everything I see, everything I hear, everything I smell and everything I touch reminds me of you. Try as hard as I may, your not going away from my memory. You were my first love, and you will be my last. To trust again after being hurt so deeply and so roughly, is impossible. To ever think that another human being might possibly be telling me the truth is something will never again let myself do. Thanks to you, everyone around me, be it friend or foe, is a liar in my eyes. Nobody to trust. Nobody to turn to. It's just me, on my own. All I want is to be alone. To be able to cry without having to explain myself, be able to scream without people thinking I am insane, to be able to just let out all this pain on the inside. But that is not something I can do. There are to many people around, watching, listening, waiting. My life is not my own. My life is everybody's but my own. I don't do what I want or what I need, I do what is expected or required. I hate this life. I hate this world. I hate you.

Emo?

I have never understood emo people. Those that listen to rock music on their ipod, wear all black plus make-up, get durnk and high every chance they get and cut themselves to feel something. Now I realize that until you get your heart broken so severely that it will never be able to heal again, it's impossible to understand these people. I have been one of the mean ones that looks at them and thinks about how stupid they are and how ridiculous it is that they do that just because they are sad about who knows what. But after having my heart broken by the person that i trusted, the person that I made my everything and gave all of myself to, then I realized I am just like them...I am Emo. This does not mean emo people are depressed, or bipolar, or messed up. It just means that something happened in their lives that caused them to look at things differently, to trust people less, and to realize that in this life they can only rely on themselves. Now I am coming to understand more and more the things i once found strange and stupid. For example, the loud rock music on your Ipod. What's so appealing about? Well jst the fact that if you put it on loud enough and unplug yourself from the world well enough, it's quite possible to forget about everything that's causing you pain, everything that is hurting you and leaving scars. It's also a way for you to avoid speaking to the annoying nagging people that you have no choice but to deal with on a daily basis. At least with your headphones on, and blasting up loud enough for them to hear, they may hopefully, eventually take the hint that you don't want to talk, and leave you alone. And as a person who has been hurt, made a fool of, and scarred, all you want is just that...to be left alone.The next thing many people have a hard time understanding is the heavy, black makeup. Personally I don't understand that either. In my opinion if you're hurting and dying slowly inside, you don't want to wear black makeup, because then when you can't hold back the tears, black ink running down your face is really noticable, making it hard for you to be able to just let go and cry. But from another few point the black makeup is like a mask, putting on a face, something you're not, but something you pretend to be for the people around you so they can't see the real you. The lost, hurt, scared, and dying person on the inside, is hidden behind the black makeup and the bangs. Hidden away from all people, so noone ever finds out just how bad things are for you. Then there's the cutting. I have always thought people that cut themselves are ridiculous. Insane. Mentaly NOT OK. But now i've come to realize that maybe they got something smart going with it. When you have been hurt to the point where you just don't care about anything anymore...it's really scary. You come to realize that you don't care about anyone or anything, and that life is just flying by you and you can't seem to move to get anywhere. When you cut yourself, you feel pain, and for a split-second you know you're alive, because if you weren't you wouldn't be feeling the pain. The lasting affect of the cutting is also very appealing. Just as the thing that has made you this way, dead on the inside, has left you with scars all over your insides...the cuts you make also leaves scars, but they are on the outside. These serve as reminders to never make the same mistakes again. To never trust. To never love. To never give yourself to a person just to be stabbed in the back and walked all over by them. To never expect anything but the worst from all people, because that is what they always give you. These scars remind you that this life is an anarchy, each man for himself. And if you make the mistake of caring for someone more then yourself...you're screwing yourself over and setting yourself up for a life of pain and hurt. Most importantly to all of us sad people is the rain. Rain is our best friend. Walking in the rain, with our music blasting through our headphones, our minds as blank as we can possibly force it to become, and the tears streaming down our face. The only good thing about it? The rain hides the tears...so that just for a second we can let go and cry...without anyone knowing.