I Hate Anyone Who Claims to Love Me

I will address the problems that I cannot ignore.
And I will be alone probably the rest of my life.

I realised that the other night. I was laying in my bed, arms all smooth with wrists and sweet half-pale moon coming in through that window, just in a swirling little state of waking and loving the lights now, and it hit me like an illness that's been there all along: I will be alone probably the rest of my life. 

Had a dream the other night
and I entered through the wrong side of the church
Saw my father standing across from me
Looked down, in my big white dress
In a big brown arena
And the 20 or so of you
who claimed to love me
you don't.
So I walk behind
and I came around
and I did what was right.
I didn't steal like I do now here in my real life
I steal anything.
And what happened
only that he walked with me, his arm around mine,
and that's lovely.
I was almost to the altar,
to meet nobody,
the Love of my Life,

and there you were.
Bianca only winks when she feels sorry for you.
I don't feel sorry for you.
I just want to hold you.
But I also want you to never see me again.
Because I drink too much too many times
Because I'd do it all
I'd do them all
I let them put their hands all over me
And I smile at the ones on my friends
the music is even blurry
the people are wearing bandages over their heads, they ride bikes in the night, I yell
at them.
I let them kiss me.
All of them.
I would.
I would.
I could.
But nobody stays with me,
because they've all gotten bored.
And I fuck up everyone I meet.
They leave a worse person than before.
So I like to have you in my dreams,
though it makes me miss you when I'm awake,
but you know, there's two things that keep me sane
Besides not eating
and Not thinking
and if you didn't figure the
first one by now, you're
so precious to me.
But here's the real one:

I'd never let you kiss me like that.
Like that night.

..................................

Yea, so I hate anyone who claims to love me. Because no one has loved me proper in this lifetime. All the people who think they love me, they're wrong. I have the potential to be the happiest human being alive, and I know it so well. I know it too well. I could be happier than all these people, but I choose to walk fast and keep quiet and not know what I'm doing with my life. I don't care; I scare. You left, love, so it's time to be alone now. I haven't truly been alone in a while, and it's coming back to me now. How it feels to read Shakespeare on a Wednesday midnight, Way to Normal for the neighbors, feeling nice, sharing it with Capri. Now what, I say? I saw more. I never thought I'd be the person I am now, and that's bad. I want to earn a bit of money, move to San Francisco, and lay in the grass all day with funny-looking punk people who smoke weed. That'd be lovely. But instead, I go to a school where nobody could ever love me, I go to classes that I love, but I can't talk, I lost it, I go to parties and I don't meet anyone, I just drink too much and end up crying my eyes black and muddy. That's the life I chose, but I'm choosing a new one. Goodbye, fucking prep life. I don't want you anymore. I'm bored with everything, and I don't want to have sex. I just want to have new experiences.