I hate being alone

I hate being alone It’s the worst part about all of this, the being alone. When I was younger and hated something I just went to sleep. I find myself falling into the same pattern… sleeping all day just to make it pass. With each day I do that, I become more and more like my mother. But I hate being alone. I hate that he is out all the time and never thinks of me. Or maybe he does and never says it. I hate being alone I hate that it gets so dark and quiet at night. I hate that even the sounds of the TV scare me so I keep it off. And then it gets too quiet again. I hate being alone. I hate that he gets to see people and talk and laugh with them while I am here, alone, afraid, crying… and he doesn’t know. I hate being alone I hate that I don’t even feel like I can tell him about it. I hate feeling like everything I say to him will just start another fight so I don’t say anything at all. Until I get so scared and so alone that I blow up. I hate being alone. I hate that it feels as if I am here doing everything, fixing everything, worrying about everything while he is out pretending life hasn’t changed for him. I hate being alone. I hate feeling as if it was all not worth it. I hate feeling as if he doesn’t really love me. I hate wondering if he ever did. I hate feeling as if he is only here because he has to be. I hate being alone. I hate feeling helpless and hopeless. I hate defending all of this. I hate defending him. I hate continuing to do things I don’t like. I hate this… I hate all of this… I hate being alone. I hate that he never tells me he loves me. I hate that he never takes time out for just me. I hate that he seems to put everything and everyone else first… But mostly, I hate being alone. Written January 9th, 2002 © on Jan 09 2002 02:10 AM PST   18 • 0 • 1