Giving Up-

For so long I have focused on the primary concern of bettering myself. Over and over I have attempted to improve both my state of mind and appearance to conclusively fail, resulting in detrimental effects to my self-esteem and sense of hope. Through trial and error, I have simply damaged myself; by proving that I am incapable of overcoming the intangible obstacles that I have for so long faced. I must face the reality that is my unsparing vulnerability.

I am dependent; I am weak. I find no comfort through seeking treatment for that which cannot be treated. There is no relief through the indulgence of my arsenal of medication. At best, I am numb; I am the scar tissue in which nerve cells cannot reside. At my worst, I am destructive; I skim the surface of an exposed powder keg with a lit match just to see whether or not it will blow. I suppose you could say I have a fixation towards Russian Roulette.

And so I have succumbed to my flaws and given in to my demons; I am consumed with such potent apathy as I wait for my insecurities to devour me. There is barbed wire embedded beneath my skin and the more I try to remove it, the more damage it does. It is far less painful to give in rather than to fight an undeniable enemy. And for what would I go through such trouble? To continue an internal battle that will forever burden me? No. Call it cowardly, but I refuse to fight the tide; I would much rather float. And if I happen to sink to the very bottom of the sea, may I at last be at peace.

Et Tu, Brute?

The experience that is betrayal is nearly always accompanied by confusion. Today, I pace these aching floor boards perplexed by the travesty of a friendship that has now met its end. How can it be that the very hands which once held me now drive daggers into my back? How is it that such a familiar face can become that of a stranger with the thrust of a blade? 

I look to you now and see not an admired friend, but a nameless traitor. What incentive drives you to step into the dark and greet me with your Judas kiss? A Trojan horse has slipped past my defenses but leaves me no explanation for its treason. The pain you have caused me is lesser only than the shame it brings. Seldom does a tear drop from my weary green eyes; tonight they teem with rivers.