Love, & the Impossibility Of

Somehow it’s happening again. I don’t know how, but every single chance I get at finding lasting happiness with someone is a goddamn mirage.

I swear I’m fucking cursed. Every time I seem to have the chance, it just becomes a reiteration of the LESSON that I am not supposed to find an enduring relationship in this lifetime.

And I can’t handle it any more.

I’m too sick in the head, too broken. Too lonely and wounded. I repel to a certain distance even those I draw magnetically close. Even the most perfect love is tainted with my sickness and toxicity and I fucking hate it.

I’m not coping. No matter where I go, someone will be hurt by my madness. I can’t survive alone right now, and I can’t stay here.

And now, I ask you, is there any point? After being rejected, laughed at, kicked when I’m down and spat on, where is the FUCKING point? Welcome to Borderline Personality Disorder.

Welcome inside my fucked up head.


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