Am I the anti-norm? How did I get this way? Maybe I’m not just a product of my upbringing. Certainly others have had to grow up under much worse conditions. I had everything I needed. Well almost everything. But is love necessary? I’m finding it hard to remember what it is to be loved. To be honestly appreciated and cared about. A lot of it is my own doing I’m sure. I’ve pushed many people away. Others I‘ve cut completely off and toss them away. Then of course I’ve had friends who have crushed me callously numerous times. Having a low tolerance for others ruins any chance for a good relationship. What was it that I did to cause such lack of caring from my kids? I’m sure I did something, I always do. When it comes to self destruction there is no one better. I have a natural ability to destroy everything around me too. Maybe it was my destiny to be a loner, to walk through life growing colder and older. The older I get the less chance of finding a person to share my feelings, thoughts, and what little is left of my heart. Really I shouldn’t be searching anymore. Even if I found someone I’m sure I would have to chase her away. My strangeness would need to conquer my common sense and fully twist my character in to that pitiful creature that I try to hide deep inside. It causes me such internal pain every time it shows itself. Yet I’ve never had the courage to just end it. Destroy it all. I am a coward. Of course there is always that fear of missing something in my future that I know will never come. Or the fears of not seeing my children find some sort of happiness, the happiness that has been unobtainable in my life. Do those fears outweigh the never ending sadness I have always endured? I’m certain that those around me would understand my reasons for finding release. They must see the bitter, coldness that surrounds me. Maybe by finally putting my words down I’m becoming more aware of what I must do to be done. There’s no other reason for me to write this all down but for others to see. I’ve always looked to be stronger, to be able to just get it over with once and for all. I tire of it all. I tire of thinking of reasons to remain. I tire of the dark hole in my chest that has no hope of ever being brightened. I tire of the cold. I tire of the lack of warmth, the lack of feeling, the lack of emotions. I’m coming to the realization of the solution needed. I’m finding it easier to visualize it, to plan it out. Now I wait for the trigger, the final motivation.