Pretending gives me temporary comfort and happiness. Like a child, really. They pretend they’re a princess or a superhero because that would be the best alternative to them. But me, I pretend I’m not going to get hurt, I pretend I’m normal, I pretend my future is bright and I’m going to be and do whatever I want. Why? Because for a second it’s nice to think that maybe I’ll be okay, that maybe I believe it and I’m not really pretending anymore. But the reality is that the pretending will stop one day, reality will hit me in the face and I’ll crumble into little pieces. I’m okay in pretending for now.
I’m happy in the little make-believe world in my head and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. The world is a brutal place and escapism is the only way I’ll survive. What brought this on is my girlfriend. We’re realistic and say that we’ll probably end up friends when she goes to the states at the end of this year, but my head pretends we’ll stay together, that we won’t break up, that everything will be different for us. Why? Because my mind doesn’t want to hurt me, my mind wants me to be happy, hopeful and naive because I’m alive and breathing still. The thought is that we’ll break up and I’ll get fat and ugly and be alone and never see him forever is so horrible that my mind blocks it out, it tries to protect me. I wish I could have something that lasts FOREVER like in the books and films. I don’t want to be alone and unloved. I’m scared.
Speaking of books, I definitely don’t want my life turning out like in my books because every book I’ve read recently someone dies and it is often someone who was loved so dearly and I hate it. I’m reading ‘All the Bright Places’ at the moment and it’s so good and lovely or so I thought until I looked at the last page (like I always do because I have no patience) and *SPOILER ALERT* Finch commits suicide! He talks about suicide throughout the whole book but he falls in love with Violet and they’re so good together and then he’s gone and left Violet on her own again- just after her sister died may I add. I guess for some people love just isn’t enough. And that makes me sad, in fact, it makes me feel helpless because love is all I have to offer and if that won’t stop someone committing suicide then I can’t help. If I was God I wouldn’t allow suicide or poverty or murder or robbery or rape or abuse or anything like that. Suicide is the one thing I’m personally most empathetic about and it will be the thing that I could never ever accept. Someone dying from causes that aren’t their own is, to me, easier to live with than knowing that they wanted to die, they couldn’t live anymore because of the war inside they’re head, they didn’t feel happy or accepted. And then they are gone. I can see the argument that if they wanted to die its better than taking someone else who doesn’t want to die but at least the person not wanting to die wanted to live, was happy with life, felt accepted and had reasons to keep going. What’s sad is that those who want to die have none of that, they have sad lives and, in their eyes, nothing to live for. I can’t take thinking about how awful that would be. Either way death is the shittest fucking concept ever. Not for the one dying but for everyone else who loved them. I love too much, too hard for someone close to me to die. It’s selfish but when it comes to death everyone is.
I was getting deep there, apologies, I just get passionate about certain subjects. I like people to be happy. I don’t like people worrying or feeling sad. If someone is happy, I’m happy, simple as that. I feel so guilty for letting people down like more than most people, I apologise to no end because I feel so bad. Why? Because I feel like I caused someone unhappiness and I can’t deal with that. It’s irrational because you can’t make everyone happy but I never intentionally hurt people because that isn’t okay. Maybe it’s because I know what it feels like and I don’t want people to feel how I have or maybe it’s just because I’m a naturally nice person (probably not), we’ll never know unfortunately.
I can’t deal with people worrying about me, I can handle myself, or maybe I can’t but that’s my fault.
I should probably get up and do something before my girlfriend comes over so I should go… I’ll probably end up reading my book about suicide. Anyway, have a good wednesday!
until next time….Joseh the blogger.