I don't just wanna rain on your parade, I wanna burst all your floats.

How is it possible that something so... fictional and utterly inconsequential [read: NOT - EVEN - REAL] can evoke such an overwhelming emotional response? Are we just letting it become more than it actually is, was, should be? Just why am I always being made to feel like the total loser in the whole deal? Always given the fucking short end of the stick? Why is it ALWAYS about you? Why do I even let you pile all this shit on me???

Retire my fucking foot. And all that jazz about n... just because I've been gone doesn't mean it doesn't matter what I think, feel, or the impact such a decision has on me... so wtf am I supposed to do now? Apparently there isn't much of a choice in the matter in the first place, is there? Afterall, everything is about you. Every. Goddam. Thing. What kind of sadistic pleasure do you derive out of it? Am I supposed to feel jealous? [Well you've succeeded, I'll give you that.] Or is this just some twisted way of getting back for the abrupt lack of association/participation on my part, pushing whatever you can to the brink so something, someone can snap? So you finally get a response, any response out of me?

I think you can recognize the pattern by now. It takes a lot to force the hand, but once it happens, it happens. A much-needed break, yeah. But chances that I'll actually bring myself to resume where things left off (or moved on, in most cases) are at best, slim the longer the distance stretches. And in the strangest stroke of fate (or, come to think of it, just a carefully orchestrated plea for attention/closure?) just as I start prepping myself both emotionally and physically for a possible return, all this shit just has to come up. And just like that, because of your fucking selfish notion, even that infinitesimal chance is gone.

I still give a shit. Probably still will for a couple of days til it finally sinks in that it just isn't worth it anymore. That you're not worth it anymore. What really, do I get in return but undue emotional strife every other day?

Bottomline. Don't even think of blaming me for anything. I've seen this happen before. Just call it deja vu.

I can't even believe I'm feeling so utterly fucked about it. (It's supposedly really trivial, right...?)

I can't - don't want to - believe you fucked me up like that.

***

The hurt inside is fading
This shit gone way too far,
All this time I've been waiting
No I can not grieve anymore
For what's inside awaking,
I'm done, I'm not a whore
You've taken everything and oh I can not give anymore

"Here To Stay" - Korn