Illa lacrima es verus

Disclaimer: This was written out last night in my notebook before I went to sleep...I was too lazy to turn the computer back on and type it up, but it had to get out of my head, so...I thought about not even posting it at all, but I felt that it was something that needed to be said, even if the people who really need to know these things will never see this at all. *sigh* Anyway...onward...

Illa lacria es verus...

Just because you don't understand them does not mean that they don't have a purpose. And fuck you all for trying to tell me how I should and shouldn't feel, what I should and shouldn't do. You don't know me at all. You never have, and you never will. You don't even try. Why should I bother even trying to please you anymore when nothing I will ever do is good enough for you? Why should I care what you think when you can see me crying and tell me that it's all a joke?

These tears are real. These scars are real.

...this pain that I carry in my heart is more real than you could ever imagine...even if you did know the truth, there is no way you could ever truly comprehend how I feel. Even if I told you, you wouldn't believe me. You never believe me. Ever. Which is why I have suffered in silence all these years.

And you know what? I don't want you to know this pain, because I don't want you to hurt like I do. I don't want you to know what you lost, what I lost, what we all lost. I don't want you to see behind the mask, to see my true colors, because I would never forgive myself for the way that would tear your heart apart. And in so many ways it sickens me to feel that way because I know that the only way for you to ever truly accept me as I am is for you to see the truth. But that will never happen. That can never happen, because I won't allow it. And in so many ways, I am truly sorry. I have built this wall between us, between myself and the rest of the world, and that's just the way it has to be. Because there is no other way. There never has been.

This was what I was created for. To suffer. To cry. To bleed. And as sick as this will sound, there are times when I am almost grateful for the pain I have known in my life. It has made me who I am, sculpted me into a far stronger person than I would have been without it. I have learned to embrace the darkness instead of shying away from it, and it has become like a best friend to me...in truth, it has become a part of me. I have leanred to appreciate every little shred of happiness that comes my way more than anything because they are so rare and fleeting and, without the pain of loss and the suffering I have endured, I would probably take all of that for granted just like everyone else.

But that doesn't mean that I don't need comforting from time to time. I can't do it all myself, no matter how much I would like to believe that. So why......why is it to much to as for you to simply hold me, even if you don't understand why I'm crying? And why does every single tear have to lead to a lecture on what I could do to "fix my life"? There is no fixing this. There never will be. Truly, I don't believe that there ever was. As I said above, this is what I was born for. This is my purpose. But that doesn't mean that I don't need comforting from time to time, even if it feels pointless...in some way, deep down, it really does help...

*sigh* This is far too long winded, and I should simply stop now. I don't know what prompted me to be so candid, but here it is. Laid out bare for the world to see if they so choose. I should point out that this is not directed toward anyone in particular, not even a little bit. It's more...the tired, frightened ramblings of an empty, misplaced soul...Good night.