Drunk Rambles

Am I not pretty enough?

Am I not smart enough?What is wrong with me?
Why can’t i be loved? Is the timing wrong, i will wait, If it’s just not a possibility give it to me blunt. Obviously in the beginning it wasnt supposed to progress like this. I was hardly looking to love anyone. But I did. And now there is a denyial (seemingly so—i have the nact for drama in writing)  Break my heart for what reason? If you’re scared that’s not a reason that it is an excuse.

It’s me. Im not your type. I get it. I’ve gotten it before. This is nothing new. I just have to remind myself not to act out on this rejection. To not allow it to trigger my abandonment issues. That dreaded innate feeling of never being good enough. It’s not like I ever was. I just had hoped myself this was the time. As if anyone is fucking ready for love you idiot. I mean that nicely. I hate you right now. I suppose it’s been four months. You should know. You do know obviously. You’re using that figuring self out crap without including me. I don’t matter enough to be included. I get it. I just wished I wouldnt have went with inhibitions. Understand, my love, you truly know the depths of me unlike any other. I gave you all of me. I held back due to titles but in where it mattered I gave you all. I hazard to guess no one will ever love you as I did, I don’t see how one could. Do I romanantasize love? i am sure I do. but no one cares. I’m more than likely left broken hearted in the end. I haven’t put msyself out there for awhile. In face I swore off love. Im karma debt not to haveit. You prove it all to well. And it fucking hurts. It almost hurts more than Randalls’ Death. Atleast he accepted it. His sadness was the demise. Perhaps I gave up. I never do know what to do. All I have ever remembered growing up was love stories. I wanted to be a romance writer. i also idiolized with Sylvai Plath. Who knew later i would grow with the same mental illnesses. I never felt i belonged, momst importantly loved. I struggled witht this obviously in a family tribe of buys. Always outcasted. I found love in the unloveables. Teachers, my classmates would laugh wereas me possibly blush a bit and shrug my shoulders like, “oh well it happens.” Further makes me feel pathetic. I always loved the unloveable. Names need not to be mentioned. But later in life when I was not the prey but the huntress i still sucked. Now adays, I just find I’m too intense. Or well, too indecisive. Fact is I don’t kn0w. I believe i love my last love as he left I wanted a relationsip. I can’t prove I donlt but I laugh just the same at the notion. I ahve no issues finding my number 2 at any event. Also I have no probelm feeling confident in executing this

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