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Breaking the Broken / I Wouldn't Change What I Got.
Today I learned that given what I portray (obviously
helpless cripple) I'm incapable of being a formidable life-
partner, or more acutely, a person not capable of
providing another person with a measure of happiness that
they deserve. Black and white, cut and dry. I should just
throw in the towel, abandon all hopes of creating a life
with someone and lock myself in some stanky cellar
somewhere to live out my days within my means. This,
according to the mother of the woman I love.
Obviously, these were not the words that came out of her
mouth, and, obviously, I did not directly hear any words
that came from her mouth, but the gist, oh the gist - spot
on. I remain in awe; how can someone speak like that? So
callous, so cold. For fucks sake, I have not been cut
deeper in some time. I'm struggling to find the words
here to express the fire that is burning in my eyes right
now. OK, breathe, Breathe. Benefit of the doubt, she was
having a stressful day. A stressful day, that completely
justifies knocking your daughter's boyfriend down to size.
I need this now like I need gangrene.
I'm only upset because it's one of my greatest fears
unearthed; the first thing a stranger thinks about when
they see me is a person not on the level, a notch or two
below the next fifty people that walk by on the same
street. I don't want to be a person people think that
about. I want to move in with someone and be myself and
not constantly be stigmaed. But I won't ever get to have
that feeling. Instead, it's feeling sorry for myself to
excess. Fucking worthless zoloft.
Well FUCK the naysayers. Not that I need additional
motivation, I'm taking my slice of happiness.. and I'm
going to give a slice too. And I reiterate, this is not
because everyone thinks I'm utterly decrepit, it's because
I deserve it and you deserve it - together.
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