Saturday, July 21, 2007
The cider got me.
Ugh it’s like kicking a puppy every drunken convo we have…I’m not sure I can take any more. My hardness makes you cry and hurt for days. My guilt makes me hurt for…not as long. My cackhanded way of explaining things hurts you for days. You running off or ignoring me when I try to explain is exhausting. You misunderstanding me all the time hurts. Not being able to say what I want hurts. The things coming out my mouth hurt you for days. I’m a shit. You hurt. I say I’m a fucking shit. You cry a bit more. I’m obviously a social retard. You reading into what I say hurts me and worries both of us. I’m so tired. Tired of this. Your expectations hurt me. You looking out for anything that might hurt you hurts me. You look for reasons to be wounded. The fact I pay for your insecurities hurts me. The fact I’m so blunt hurts you. The fact I can’t be blunt hurts me. The fact you don’t know me properly hurts me. The fact I can’t be myself around you hurts me. I know I'm not bloody perfect.
¶ 1:09 am 
