k, so… first post tacos are soft tacos.

my friend died.  like 12 years a friend.  a year ago.  she had two kids.  my boyfriend died.  like 11 years a boyfriend… 7 months ago.  my other friends died along the way… one even died on my birthday… damn it, bridgette.  my best friend in high school hanged himself an hour after i dropped him off.  yeah.  when a person does it, the past tense is “hanged” and not “hung”… inanimate objects were hung, while people were hanged.  ohhhh, the semantics and syntax of it all.

why… am i doing this again?  if i ever kill myself, it won’t be from a lack of anything.  i am fully aware i can love again.  i am fully aware i can go have a family and kids and a career.  i am decently attractive as-is and it wouldn’t take much to be more.  i’m awkward as fuck but that’s totally manageable; i just have to put myself out there and i firmly believe and know it will become easier.  i am smart… if nothing else, that is the single affirmation i trust in daily.  my single selling point.  i don’t want to love again.  i don’t want to be raw… and i am scared of guilt and loss.  i don’t have the energy.  i am so tired… and so aware.  everyone i ever chose to love is dead.  everyone who ever really knew me and loved me after is dead.  and yeah…. there can be more people.  they’ve offered.  i hear it.  but…. we’re on this big fucking rock that’s hurling through space… and people abuse puppies.  priorities, man.  motherfucking priorities.

why……….. am i still doing this?  so.  about a month before my boyfriend died, my sister’s boyfriend shot himself in the head.  she found him.  drugs and alcohol were not involved.  i sleep in his room.  she needed financial help.  i can do that.  that’s why i can’t.  i guess.  the one thing i have control over.  i might die by accident… and that would suck for her.  but the one thing i actually have control over… is to hurt her or not like that.  i need a lobotomy.  for real.  sign me up.  dumb and happy… that’s all i want to be.  fucking ghost in the shell.

how do i kill these things inside of me… which obviously need to die… without harming myself?

i’m gonna have to delete this tomorrow.  too much info.  i had a friend, my first year of college, back at home, though… he lit himself on fire.  made the news.  this other kid jumped from the underside of a bridge.  splat.  most of the rest just overdosed.  probably wasn’t intentional.  maybe.  only they know.  always partially intentional but never full intent…. i guess they just “got lucky.”