Russian roulette is not the same without a gun

Fairytales always have happy endings. But i guess that's 'cause they end when the writer stops writing. And more importantly, they're just stories. Things that could never happen in real life. Fairytale princesses and princes, riding on their white horses into the sunset and happily ever afters... That can't and won't ever happen in real life.

I guess girls always dream of their Prince Charming on a white horse, their knight in shining armour, someone to hold them in their arms and tell them that everything will be alright. I know, 'cause i used to. Been there, done that. But that's just it. It's just a freakin' dream. And you'll always wake up from a dream, and dreams will always fade away. The more you hold on to it; the more real the dream seems... It just hurts hell lot more when you wake up.

I guess i'm gonna wake up soon. And i already knowthat it's gonna hurt like hell. And that for every additional moment i spend in this dream of you and me, the pain that i feel when i wake up will intensify. But somehow, just maybe, i can live with the pain. Maybe it won't kill. It'll just remain a constant reminder of what once was and what could have and should have been.

I suppose this isn't anyone's fault. Not yours, not mine, not theirs, much as i would love to blame them. Or maybe just a little bit mine. Mine, for daring to think it could possibly last. Mine, for tempting fate. But just as the blame is mine, so is the pain.

You once told me that if i didn't love you anymore, yu'd detach yourself emotionally. Maybe the end of the year is a good time to do that. After all, a new year signifies a new start. And what could be a better way to start anew? You know i'll always be waiting, but maybe i should just be forgotten. Out with the old and in with the new.

Some days, when i feel hopeful, anything seems possible. Huh. But most days, i think there's no such thing as a miracle, i'm never really gonna get what i want. And there's no friggin' way i'm gonna survive this, intact.
But...whatthefuck. I guess i'll just deal with whatever comes.

So i guess i know what impending doom feels like. And i think i'm sinking to a new level of passivity. 'Cause now i don't ever feel like doing anything. Or, to be precise, nothing means anything to me now. I don't want to do anything, i only do stuff 'cause i need to. I guess, in a way, i'm breaking down. And i can't stop it, or maybe i don't want to stop it, 'cause maybe before it gets any better, [i'm] headed for a cliff. And in the freefall i will realise that i'm better off when i hit the bottom. Maybe letting myself break down is a better choice. Better than pretending to myself and everyone else around me that i'm fine, when i'm so obviously not.

I'm walking a fine line, the sort i'm forced to, and the sort that i can't fail. I'm walking that fine line between someone with personality and preferences, and someone who listens to her parents and teachers and coach without fail and lives up to their high expectations. Someone you love, and someone eveyone else expects me to be. Maybe i shoud just give up this losing struggle. Be who i should be, what everyone wants me to be. What is expected of me, a projected image, a mirage, instead of the real me. Or maybe i should end all this shit, with the only way i know how. Running away. Running from the responsibilities and expectations, to somewhere i can rest in peace.

I'm just so tired. Of people making demands. Of people expecting me to do all those things. Of doing things to make them happy, when i have no interest whatsoever in what i'm doing. Of doing things, working hard, just to get their approval. FUCK. I am so sick of it all. Fuck.

all i wanted was you

Later. If i'm still alive.

P/S: as if anyone cares.