Little Girl, It's All Your Fault.

Perspective turns me into just a ridiculous whiner. I can't quite define what I would term myself. If I were another. Somehow I grew up thinking that if I could only fix every tiny flaw that existed in me, the world would some how be better. That I would be less to blame for every bad thing that happened-
I felt a crazy sense of responsibility. I wanted to go and save everyone.
I feel sorrow for this tiny girl who some how- from somewhere, got the idea in her head. She was the reason for all wrong. How did I learn to think like that?
Even now, when someone, anyone...tells me something terrible happened to someone that I've never even met or heard of- I feel guilt rise up on my face, And start planning my get away... "where was he mugged?" ...yeah, I'm pretty certain I wasn't there...but...
  I believe it's a characteristic of depression- That's not to say I'm depressed, far from it. But it's one of those little treats left from a time when I did, half my life ago.Telling myself I have no right to the feelings I feel. That I should be thankful for all I have...Even when it feels like everything is falling apart. I apologise for myself when I cry. I need to write it down to make sense of it. to make it real. In my head I just let it all wash away. Because I have no right to it.
I can't write without thinking that in comparison to some people on this tiny planet, I have it fucking sweet.

The ground I exist on has become terribly unsteady. I have pulled up my roots. In choosing to leave, I have lost everything else. I need a new job. I need a place to live. I can't move without having another job first.
I have no where else to escape to.
It's a pain in the ass. More than that...but. fuck it. this is the way it has to go. I feel like I deserve to absorb all the shit that comes with this. It's my internal make-up that has brought this all into existence. I feel I must swallow any pain I feel, as though in the rule book of separation- this is the way it is written.
I'm tired of trying to be kind. It's exhausting. And it doesn't stop the pain. I know every step I take hurts him.
I want to take it all away. I want to rip out everything I feel inside... Encase him in the security of this love he believed in. Let myself fall away into nothing.
I can't sleep. I don't rest. I ache.
We dwell together in this limbo.
this miserable limbo. I feel like a parasite. I want to leave him in peace.
Every thing merely waiting to break.
I know he needs me to go.
I know he hopes that I won't.

But it's a long time since it was a choice, rather than a necessity.

And I'm already gone.