Whenever I love something or someone too much, I always fear that it’ll get taken away from me. Just now, I was looking at pictures of my cat and naturally, being the creep that I am, I started thinking of what my life would be like without her. I know that at some point, we won’t be able to be together and when that does happen, my life will go on. Life always goes on. The thing is, though, I have a really hard time letting go. I often daydream about my mother dying. I see my life crashing and burning, the pain twisting it’s poisonous knife in my body over and over again until I eventually kill myself. I daydream about what it would be like if I no longer had my sister around me…or if I’m dating someone, I constantly worry and fear for the end of our relationship. I really, really…really don’t like to let go of things. I don’t ever want to be in bed without Lola. I cringe at the thought that a day will come where she isn’t around to crawl on me, curl up next to me or smell my face. It’s scary, you know? The idea that nothing is of certain. The fact that we aren’t guaranteed anything in life, but death. That is all our one true common factor; we’re all gonna fucking die. And I’m okay with that. Maybe if we all just died at the same time it’d be easier?
When you’re used to losing things, you kind of start to think that everything else will follow the rotten trend as well. You begin to believe that you’re doomed to a world of perpetual sadness, eternal solitude, and…silence. Not the good kind, either. The kind that’ll drive you crazy and make you do anything for the slightest indication of human life around you. I don’t want to lose anymore than I already have, and when I look around at all the people I’m afraid of losing, I almost wish I wasn’t burdened with loving them at all. Yes, I’d much rather love and lose than to miss out on an experience so phenomenal and fulfilling, but the pain that ensues is something I can live without.
But then again, what’s life without pain?
This shit is overrated, I swear.