Audiences are overrated.

You just be an illusion. Can I see through you?

I see you. I see you so well. I see past your vulgarity. I see past your sarcasm. I see past your defense mechanisms. Behind all those jokes and snide comments and anger, I see you, and I listen. I listen to everything you say in the hopes of getting just another glimpse of the person that I know you are. I pay attention. I see your sadness. I see your disgust with humanity. I see it all. But what’s most frustrating of all, is that you don’t see me. Nobody sees me. I’ve tried to let you. But you brush it off. I’m petty to you. You take me for granted.

I let you. And I let you because I like you. And I thought that would be enough. I thought that being a complete pushover and putting up with all your crap and listening to you talk for hours and hours would be enough but it never is. everything i have to offer is never enough for anybody.

I put myself in this situation and I fear there is no escape.

More sadness to endure, my smiles to fake, more feelings left unreciprocated. 

I’m not supposed to care, but I do, I do, I do.

And that will be my greatest pitfall.

I’m constantly fucking myself over. Either I make things into a bigger deal than they really are, or I make exceptions for people who don’t really deserve them. Why do I do this to myself?

Drowning in negative energy.

I am not bothered by rejection. I am not bothered by indecision. I am not bothered by anger. I am not bothered by adequacy. But I am bothered by dishonesty.

This whole time I was under the impression that it was something I had done, it was the choice I made, it was the promise I made to myself. But I realized that sometimes you just aren’t good enough for someone.

I’m not pretty enough. I’m not smart enough. I’m not sane enough. I’m not funny enough. I’m not nice enough. I’m not even close to being enough.

I hang by a thread on my best days. 

Forced to go downstairs. Forced to smile. Forced to laugh. Forced to converse. Forced to mask the sadness.