I have such a hard time feeling love. When other people love me, it doesn't register in my head, because of how much hate I've received over my life. It's not a disbelief in the fact they love me. I can't really describe it. It's a feeling I've felt for so long that, other than the weight of it, it feels like nothing.

I am told I am loved, but part of me will always live in the era ten to fifteen years ago where I felt hated by everyone. Most painfully, by those I loved. I convinced myself that I'll never really, truly, be liked, much less loved. I should be happy if I'm tolerated. I should be happy if I'm given a space to exist, and ask for nothing more.

I've pissed so many people off. I pissed you off. 

I can't wait for the day when I die, or more likely, lose my mind completely. I hate living with this. I want to be anywhere else. This fucking shit will go on forever, otherwise.