Sunday 15 September 2013

Not yours to love.

(Yes, in fact I think I will make a concerted effort to talk more about what I find on the beach and what I make for dinner because this is tiring. On the other hand, once it's out of my head and on the page I feel like I can let it go and move on the next horrific indignation or whatever the fuck it is that I do all day here.)

Jesus fucking Christ, Bridget. What have you done? 

I told you what I'm doing and it's working. 

You think I can turn a blind eye to this forever? This is killing me.

Then you should pay closer attention to what I tell you and stop dismissing my ideas only because you can't get it through your thick fucking skull that I'm not a child anymore, Lochlan! 

I wish you were sometimes, then I could punish you and you wouldn't be able to go off with such stupid ideas. 

If it's so stupid then why is it working?

Because it's you, and he'll do anything for you at this point.

EXACTLY! SO LET HIM! 

I think your true goal is now to destroy all of us to punish yourself for not being good enough for Jake. That's what I think. When everyone is gone you'll be satisfied that you couldn't be any worse off or hurt any more because you think you weren't good enough for him. You're looking for rock bottom but you don't have to do that anymore!

Every time I exhale something else goes wrong. I may as well attempt to control it for my own benefit. Dilute my life and my love and then I'm safe. 

From who?

From all of you breaking my heart. Over and over again.