Re: Happiness
So what are you saying? That I should just not get attached to anything and just watch life pass me by? Perhaps I am more attached to Jack than I should be, but how many teenagers have fatal illnesses? I’m sure you’re gonna pull out some statistic that’ll shock me, but it’s still a lot less than the people who don’t. It’s not reasonable for me to think that the people I make friends with might die. Still, after Jack, I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop myself, irrational as it seems.
Everyone’s gonna be looking forward to see what it’s like. You don’t make me feel better at all.
I thought the whole point of Jack dying was that his soul didn’t want to experience anything any more. Makes me feel like a third wheel who’s just messing everything up for everyone. Jack feels bad he’s going to have to leave me behind, I’m going to be heartbroken when he dies. As much as I love Jack, I find it hard to convince myself that everyone wouldn’t have been much better off if we’d never met each other. Being with Jack is only just good enough to outweigh how awful we both feel, and how awful I know I’m going to feel, if how I’m feeling now is anything to go by.
That’s strength I’m beginning to run out of. I know too well what being alone feels like, and I don’t want that, but I know it’s going to happen. Every time it happens, it hurts more than the last time. I don’t think I could possibly be hurting more right now. When Jack dies, I might as well die with him. I won’t have any strength or reason to go on. I know there are other people out there, but no-one like Jack, and I won’t be in any position to meet them if I feel like I feel now. Mum died nine years ago and I still haven’t gotten over it. Now I’m going to have two people’s deaths messing up my life and I can only assume that it’s going to mess it up for at least another nine years. I’ll be twenty-seven then, if I last that long. I can’t imagine myself being twenty-seven. It just seems too far away. Twenty-seven year olds have jobs, families, houses. So many grown-up things. I think my life just stopped when my mum died. I still feel nine years old inside. I wish Mum was here. She’d make me feel better. As it is, she’s dead and I’m stuck with my dad who’s downstairs with a girl who’s gotta be half his age and the only person who makes me feel better is the whole cause of this pain in the first place. I can’t wait until Jack comes back again. Every second seems to go on forever. Once he’s gone though, there won’t be anyone or anything left to make me feel better. I’ll feel like this for the rest of my life. What’s the point of living that life?
I know there’s no advantage to feeling the way I feel, but it won’t go away. I want it to stop so badly, but it won’t.
It doesn’t matter if I’m not in a condition to enjoy myself with Jack at the moment anyway. Jack’s not here. I’ve hardly eaten anything these past few days. I swear my jeans weren’t as big on me last week as they are now. I thought maybe as the week went on I’d get used to Jack not being here, but no. It’s gotten worse.
Camael, I’m not trying any more. I know how you feel. I’ve got til the end of the year then nothing will be able to help me either. Facts of life suck. People die, I hate it and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can complain about it, you can complain about it but it doesn’t change anything. Everyone else always seems so happy but everything seems to go wrong for me. Jack’s not the only person in the world, but as if I’m going to be in the mood for meeting other people after Jack dies. It’s not fair. I should have been the one with cancer. Nobody would notice me gone. Even if I still met Jack and I had cancer, he’d get over it. He has his family. I have no-one.
Heh, who wants to be friends with a depressed angel… who’s gonna want to be friends with depressed me? It is theoretically possible for me to be happy, but it’s not going to happen. It’s like ripping someone’s legs off and expecting them to still be able to walk. Take away my reason to be happy, and of course it’s not possible for me to be happy after that. The only way I can be happy after that is to get myself drunk, and that always goes wrong. Even if it doesn’t, I know I’ll be feeling terrible for it the next day.
I expect you will experience this at some point. This experience seems right up your street.
-Poppy
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