I cant do this, how can i do something that i dont have a clue about. i dont want to ask for help as it means that im weak and that im a failure. but hey everyone no's that i am already so what the hell difference is it going to make.
I hate it that we really don't spend any time together.
You live here and I feel like I never see you.
Maybe it's just because I never remember the evenings, but I get so wound up and I focus on you coming home, I really fúcking look forward to it then you come home late and we go to sleep, then it starts all over again.
I don't really know what to do.
I don't know what the fúck i'm going to do when you move out.
At the moment i feel im fighting an up hill battle.And I'm struggling. I would turn to you but you have your own problems. Problems I need to help you with. You come first before me but I wish you would notice...Notice that I'm not smiling and that the world is getting darker...
I love you so much...So very much...Please get better so I can feel your warmth again. I dont want to be pushed aside :'(
Thought I oughta bare my naked feelings
Thought I oughta tear the curtain down
I held the blade in trembling hands
Prepared to make it but just then the phone rang
I never had the nerve to make the final cut
I miss you so bad. I don't even know how to explain it. My mind won't let me stop thinking about you. Every day, every hour, you're in my thoughts. Please be careful. I can't lose you.
I love you. I miss you. I want you. I need you. I want to say this to you everytime we speak. Why can't I? I don't know. But what I do know is that you should know this already. You're my everything.
i'm so tired of feeling this way...why can't you leave me alone? Why did you have to find out my secret shame?! i hate this life, and I haven't even begun to live it...
I wish I could find someone like you, except not as unwilling to accept help when proffered. Let other people care about you, for goodness sake. I don't know why you feel the need to take care of everything yourself. What do you have to prove that you haven't already? All you're proving right now is how stubborn and insensitive you are to other peoples feelings...oh, and you're proving you know just how to punish yourself...for what? Being well known around campus? Sigh. I understand about the authoring and even the honor society, but somethings gotta give somewhere in there. I'm just afraid it will be you, and I don't want that to happen. It doesn't matter though, does it? As you would so fondly point out, it's none of my business. I'm not in any position to care about you. Hmph. Don't you see how helpless I feel? You don't even care. I do, you don't. That's the way it's always been.
You think I'm getting better but I'm not. I just ramble of positive things to try and stop you giving up. I don't believe the things that come out of my mouth... I wish I did.
"Watch me fault her "you're living like a disaster". She said "kill me faster", with strawberry gashes all over"
*They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do*
To my dear beautiful son, Ethan,
I'm sorry honey, you deserve so much more than I've ever given you.
I'm sorry you were conceived on the whim of two messed up teenagers, one depressed, the other a stoner.
I'm sorry that I didn't see that we deserved better, instead choosing to stay with your father even though every day it was shattering me, slowly, piece by piece.
I'm sorry that your first two years were filled with tears, arguments, broken objects, messy surroundings and then my rejection and escapism.
I'm sorry that I crumbled when you weren't with me everyday.
I'm sorry that I made a stupid decision, an escape, that has put us in this situation.
I'm sorry that I've turned into a mother who can't handle more than one night with her own son.
I'm sorry for the disaster that has been this last year.
I'm sorry that I'm concidered too much of a risk to be around you without supervision.
I'm so sorry, my precious baby, you didn't ask for any of this, yet these are the decisions that I made on your behalf.
Your screaming when we part pierces my heart. The idea of you being brought up by those upper class snobs terrifies me. The thought of what a mess I have made of your early years of life makes me sick to my bones.
From a tender age I was aware of the huge responsibility of parenting. I recognised my own parents failures and I was determined not to do that to my own children but I also realised that I would fuck you up anyway because 'they fuck you up, your mum and dad.They may not mean to, but they do'
Please know that I always wanted more for you. My heart is in the right place but my head isn't. My prayer is that I haven't fucked you up too much yet. My hope is that I will get better, properly, and I will be able to provide for you the childhood that I always wanted, the love, care, discipline, attention, praise, home, family. I have so many pure desires for your life.
Please forgive me for the broken mess I've provided you and strive despite all this crap.