And if I was just… #13reasonswhy

I was just not meant to be more.

It’s hard to explain what I wanna say. Even in the language of the heart.

I feel a lot, always. Everything takes proportions I don’t want them to, but how are you supposed to regulate this? Sometimes I would like to shut these emotions down ‘cause they just bring me pain and sorrow. They are just too painful to sustain. I wish I was able to act like I don’t care. Well actually I can. That’s the “superpower” I developed along the years making sure the others just don’t notice what I feel, especially when I’m hurt. What I would like is annihilate every piece of emotion, every tiny little feelings creeping through my heart and actually feel nothing.  I would really appreciate sometimes to be characterized with impaired empathy and remorse, and bold, dis-inhibited, egotistical traits. Yes in other terms: a mid-psychopath… This sometimes would help me through life. Theirs has to be easier without any feelings or emotions… maybe I am insane after all…

I know by reading this, you must ask yourself why. The reason is simple: I don’t induce feelings in others. I induce curiosity, such as a cage animal you want to see because you’ve heard of it.

Something you wanna possess because you’ve got the possibility to. Something practical to have on hand because it makes you feel better. Something you hide, actually, because you’re ashamed to be paired with, but you just can help going back to. Something temporary. An experience. Something you place between two appointments with your dentist.

Welcome to the Freak Show.

People just don’t get it when I say I’m an empty shell because they can’t see exactly what’s inside.

They see me as bubbly, joyful, with a certain approach on life that is careless. The truth? I really care, but not for myself. I realized a longtime ago that I would never be a priority in others vision, so I act as if I don’t care. As if my life was just a gigantic part where people have their place, but where I never find the right character fit for myself.

You know what made me realize I wasn’t different from the girl I was in high school?

The Netflix Series 13 reasons why. I related too much with Hannah. She cared too much. Always.

She made a decision I wasn’t brave enough to take. Yes, it’s brave to choose to let go one way or another. The way she put the responsibility on the others, is not. They are not the reasons why she did it. She just did it because she was different because she cared more about the others than herself and she couldn’t take it anymore. She just couldn’t bear the pain her feelings caused her. She decided to let go because she, at this very moment, thought she never would be someone’s priority.

One can argue that life is precious and I won’t contradict them, but I can also perfectly understand you want to end what you didn’t ask for. Her classmates might have contributed to her distress, but they just didn’t make it on purpose, they were just teenagers.

Well apart from one… One I once knew as well. One that has his place behind bars.

Regarding the high school advisor, he didn’t do his job. He wasn’t there for her when she tried to tell him she was about to end her life. He has a responsibility as an adult who has as a priority to be there for the students.

Anyway. This series got me to burst in tears. Ripped what’s left of my heart out of my chest.

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