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All along I did what I could, but you tell me my timings no good. Who knew? - Who Knew by You Won't

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And even though I fell when I didn't want to, it was euphoric. Until fate decided I had enough and had me crash land into a pit of shattered glass. A pit of shattered people. And I no longer understood my careening emotions. I no longer understood feelings.

Though drugs had helped me to stay somewhat sane for a short period of time, it didn't last long. Every passing day, every passing second, the relief from all the different drugs was slowly reducing until it was barely working, then it eventually stopped. It didn't make any sense doing drugs anymore, but I couldn't stop. I was addicted.

Heartbreak and heartache took a much greater effect on me than I had originally anticipated. I couldn't quite tell if my heart was trying to kill me or itself, even though either way we'll both die. Maybe I was crazy. I had already tried therapy. They all said I was fine, just a little sad. They said I would get over it. Be it a year, I will. But it's been five. Five whole years of tears and depression over a single person. A person that meant more to me than he should have.

I don't know what is wrong with me. I feel so broken inside. No one understands how much it hurts to keep it all pent up. No one understands that I feel like crying every single second of every single day. Everyone just thinks I was madly in love. They just think that I got my heartbroken, simple as that. But it was so much more. Not only did my heart break, but I did too.

When the drugs stopped working I took up alcohol. It helped in a way. I didn't want to cry every second anymore. It improved to every five minutes. Alcohol was my therapy. Yet when the relief started to go away, I still felt a tinge bit more...pleasant. I wasn't as moody anymore. I could form somewhat of a smile and mean it. I could speak to people and look them in the eye without having the urge to break out into tears because of one minuscule detail about the person that reminded me of him.

But I still wasn't fixed. I wasn't close to it at all. I was still lost without the one light that had guided me through everything. The one light that had been fading ever since he got angry for the very first time. The one light...

But that one light, already disintegrated, sparked once. Just a little flicker of hope. It was when I saw him. Someone who I hadn't expected to like me, much less fall in love with me. And though that flicker of hope meant something. I ignored it. Hope was what got me here in the first place and playing with it again would be like playing with fire. I didn't want to get hurt.

He was so ambitious. He was always trying to grab my attention. But that ambition wasn't going to change my mind. I didn't deserve someone as wonderful and dedicated as him. He was a kind person and quite crazy at times. He liked to be around females, and they liked to be around him.

When he fell on me that night he was drunk, I was uncomfortable. I was so out of it because I didn't want to be touched by anyone. Yet when I told him that, he played with my hair and stroked my cheek. I didn't understand that, I didn't understand him.

Did you know that?

You were so confident and sure of your feelings and what you were doing while I didn't quite understand how it felt to be happy. You hung around me a lot whenever you'd see me passing the pub you usually go to. I would hardly speak to you while you would ramble on and on about things I hardly paid attention to. I don't know if you realised you were getting no where with me or if I was just a bore because after a while you stopped speaking to me. You didn't smile at me when I passed by, you hardly even acknowledged me. You started hanging out with these different girls. Each one different from me in more ways than I'd like. They were either smarter, prettier, sweeter or much more attentive to what you say. I'd hope that you would want to find someone like me because even though I was sure I had no feelings for you, I wanted you to want me. I just wanted someone to want me. And I got jealous over the fact I meant less to you than I had wanted.

It's definitely not love you felt. You were just looking for a distraction. And that pissed me off; I wasn't going to be some get away for anyone–only I could do that. I spoke to you first after a few weeks of you hardly acknowledging me. I couldn't quite tell if you were happy. But after that one night you went back to speaking to me and eventually I asked you over. Just for a drink.

I guess that's where it started off because you started coming back every night and every night I'd speak a single word more to you until we could have a proper conversation. It went on for months until you told me you loved me. I didn't answer. I had shut down. I didn't want you to love me, I didn't want anyone to love me. All I did was bring people pain. You deserved better than what I had to offer.

But you were just Iike my baccy, and I love my baccy. I don't love you—I don't think I can, but I don't mind getting high off you. I'm messed up, but aren't we all. It's just a big world of complicated people with overly complicated lives; we're all just messed up in some way. And I may be high, again.

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-laughingwithowls