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Venteratti

by thehusk

Just having a moan, to try and get some of it out.

I don’t want to live with this reality anymore – where I’m this monstrous, twisted thing. Where I have to hide who I am from everyone because the truth is despicable.

It hurts, and there’s no way to fix it. What’s done is done, the past is in the past. But what’s the point, when you’ve condemned yourself to always being alone? When you can’t ever let anyone in? When you’ve morally isolated yourself from humanity. Where you can never be seen, or known, or feel truly safe with anyone. When you’re that alone, what’s the point?

There is no point to my life. I’ve robbed myself of any possibility of meaning.

I guess I’m just too much of a coward to end it. Either that, or I’m still clinging to some delusional sense that things will just magically shift – that somehow, none of it will matter anymore, and someone will come along and save me from myself. Plus I don’t want to screw up my parents lives more than I already have. They’ve invested so much in trying to help me, more than anyone could expect. To bring down that kind of devastation on them…I don’t think I could do it, not unless something extreme happens. Although if they ever found out the truth that might be worse for them.

But it hurts. So fucking much. Just living with this reality, of who I am, and what I’ve done. I don’t want to face this anymore. I want to escape. I want to be someone else. I want this loneliness & isolation to end. I want peace, love, and understanding.

But I guess I’ll have to settle for a bottle of wine and some electronic entertainment.

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