The Ripped Soul

I'm very tired. Drained to the point where I've lost my conscience, drained to the point of not knowing what's right, what's wrong, and what to do, say, feel or think anymore.

Sherlyn was telling me on the phone the other night that I've changed. I'm no longer the Jess she used to know. The one that was sensible and logical, the one that always had the answers to problems everyone else was facing. I'm no longer as fun as I used to be, as much as she always tries to force it out of me when we're out together.

And I cried as I heard all that.

I know that person. I miss that person. I miss myself so much sometimes. It hurts. It really does.

I lost myself the day I went out with her on her birthday, or that was according to Lyn. Because firstly it was out of the norm. You don't cry over a breakup, want to commit suicide, want to run away, want to die, and then just because you hear their side of the story and how sad it could get, you go back to them, compassionate and loving as ever. Loyal like a fucking dog. Even a dog knows how to bite. I can't think of any other loving, compassionate creature.

But I don't blame Lyn for saying that, because I had to kill so much emotion, so much feeling in me just to go out with her. It was extremely hard. I was cutting myself, drinking alcohol in the fucking middle of the afternoon just to distract myself from the emotional pain I was going through.

Then the whole friends with benefits thing?

And how she wanted me so much and I could still clearly see and feel it. And how the weeks went by, the benefits lessened and then it just seemed like she didn't want me anymore.

Like how previously I could feel the passion still there, the love and desire still there, one morning I wake up and it's all gone.

The morning she snapped, probably.

And now I'm lost and I don't know what to do, where to go, how to find myself again. Help?

Then you called last night.

Sherlyn's advice blasting in my head. You know what you have to do, jess. You just don't want to do it.

My head screaming the same words I said to Jeremy after we broke up and I couldn't take it anymore.


"whats up?"
"just called to check on you, it's been some time.."
"do you like the CD?"

The CD.
Irony, because if you didn't say all those things you did at the beach, I probably would've loved the CD like mad, even though we're not together. But because you did, I didn't even know what to feel. Or think.

Then you talked to me about work, and I told you about me getting complaints from customers.

"You know what's the fucked up thing about you, Jess? You know what's so fucked up with you? What's so fucked up with you is you always take it personally."

Is that something you actually say to a friend?

So I'm fucked up because I take it personally? Because I take it to heart, I take it right down to my very soul and let it tear me up apart. I let things affect me.

Should I be ignorant, then? Like you? Say things, regret later? Do things, and wish I could undo them after? Feel things, and wish I never did in the end? Be "meh, whatever" to everything going on around me? A person complains and I'm like "go fuck yourself" just because I don't want to take it personally?

I am not that person, that I am sure. I have always been sensitive to people around me, to actions and words said to me. I have always been emotional, I feel and I tend to express the way I feel.

But nevermind that.

Apparently I'm fucked up because I take things personally, and I'm no longer sensible, no longer logical. No longer fun. Okay.

And then after hearing all that and holding my tongue in silence, I asked you, did you like the book?

Yeah you did, you say.

But I sense a silence in your words. Something you wanna say, but you're not saying.
And you spill.

"it's just pressurizing you know? it's too much. it feels like you're always trying to get me back with you. that's why whenever we're out with sherlyn and kiji it feels like a double date."

And my heart just screams in anger, in agony. I feel like screaming at you till tears fall from my eyes. I feel like standing in the middle of a road and have a car run me over. I feel like jumping off a bridge. I feel like drinking, I feel like getting so drunk that I'm not even self-aware and get myself screwed over by some random person I just met over the net.

I feel like causing so much hurt to myself and I don't even know why.

You're already hurting me. Why should I want to hurt myself further?

YES, I WANT YOU BACK. Okay? I do. I swear I do. But right now, you've changed so much that you're not the girl I fell in love with. You as a person I don't even know anymore, because that's just how much you've changed.

I'm your friend because I'm trying, here. You tell me stories about how your friends don't do shit for you, they don't call you out, you're always the one that's calling them, that's planning outings with them.

So fine. I include you into my life, into my circle of friends.

Do I wish we'll get back together? YES.
Do I attempt it and try to get back for it every single time? NO.

It doesn't mean I miss opportunities. Valentine's day came; on valentine's, since you're my valentine, I got you something. I also got Lyn something.

What's that supposed to mean? I'm in love with Lyn?

Do I look like I'm always sending you flowers saying "I'm sorry, please take me back?" Or always giving you chocolates and asking back for your hand? Do I look like I'm standing at your door at 6 in the morning, crying, begging for you to come back to me?

No.

I don't do all that.
It doesn't mean I don't want you back.

I do want you back.

For memory sake. Because I remember what we used to have, and I'm thinking, we used to have that then, why can't we have that now? Because of life changing events? Because of a break up? Why can't we just move on from there and continue having what we used to have? Learn from our mistakes, live a life anew, with a love and passion so true?

I do want you back. But I'm not going to try, fall on my knees and beg, cry and scream like a suicidal maniac just so you'll come back to me.

This time around I'm leaving it to you. I'm leaving it to time, to destiny, to fate. To you. To choice.

And I'll wait here and see if you'll ever come back to me.

I miss you and the memories and what we used to have. What we used to share. I won't lie. I miss that. I miss it so fucking much, I swear. I can't think of anything else that I could possibly miss more, except fun times with my friends and the best version of myself when I used to be so happy and cared less about the fucking world.

But right now, at the rate things are going, this is so fucking funny and a little part of me inside laughs hysterically:

But I don't think even I want you back anymore.

I desperately need to find myself again. I'm so close to just wanting to end this life, so close to just wanting to kill myself further, so close to wanting to meet up with all these guys, drink, eat, make out and be a fuck-n-go. Not because I want to.

To hurt myself? Perhaps.
To see if you'd get affected? Maybe.

But a part of me knows you won't even care anymore, so why should I even try?

And my head and my heart just fights this conflicting war. I need to pull away from you, I need to stay away from you. You've done me so much damage that I need to heal from, and the last straw is when I actually want to hurt myself because of you, the things you've said and done.

That is so not me, and even I know that.