Miracles. I did not believe in miracles.
But...like the Black Crowes sang, "Sometimes salvation / In the eye of the storm."
I'm not an exceptional person, not a saviour, not a scientist, I am almost nothing.
But in the blink of an eye, I became...someone worthy of a helping hand, a hand that pulled me off the quicksand that was, once again, threatening my own life. I was threatening my own life.
For the seventh time, I was planning my own demise. Planning my own death. And then...
Something happened. Someone happened. Someone gave me a chance.
A chance to try and find myself, find a way out of the maze I was lost for nearly 3 years,
Since the "southern bitch" came trampling over me, destroying myself, keeping me on a leash,
Year after year, she deceived me. Year after year, she destroyed me.
I was lost, alone, naked in the cold bitter darkness, and she offered me a fake light to follow.
Then she would turn the light off for a while, only to turn it again, in another direction,
And I would follow, clueless cretin that I was. Until one day I saw through the lies,
The deception, and my eyes became blind to her fake light. Gone. Poof.
But I stood, still naked and lost and alone. I stood, each day a portion of my own sanity crumbled away, in vain I tried to find some light, something, someone.
No one would come. No one but more deceivers, more liars, more illusionists; I thwarted them all, save a few good souls that remained as friends, and even among them, some were liars and deceivers.
My list of reasons to keep going was wearing thin, each night I spent alone, lost in my own room, in my own derelict of a home I was living on.
And some nights, i played the opposite - I stood naked and vulnerable along those who were seeking death, as badly as I was, I tried to save them. I did help a couple of lost souls, even though I never heard from them again, so I cannot say my help was indeed valid or permanent. Days passed, and curiously, I felt better surrounded by the people that hates me, than alone in my own room, prey to my own predatory thoughts - kill yourself. Kill yourself. Kill yourself.
Again, I tried to help people, to see if it would make me feel better, yet it did not. More and more, my insanity was driving me crazy, my hunger for death was reaching a peak, and then - one night I posted, yet again, that I was seriously thinking about turning my own lights out, for the seventh time.
Days passed, I was in a stupor so great, that I haven't even checked the Android Emulator on my PC.
When I did, there were some responses to my plea. I remember it was a Wednesday, I think - and I was mad, I was angry, not directly at me, but at society and technology itself - the reason of my anger was how much technology has rendered everyone as disposable cumdumpsters. You meet them, you fuck them, you throw them away, and go to the next fool in line. I complained about that to one person that responded.And he replied back, that he had to dump his last boyfriend because of such odious apps. His boyfriend was seeing a lot of other guys behind his back , using those apps, and he valued loyalty as much as I declared to.
At that point, I was asked about my own sexuality. I know myself well enough at this age to have no problem saying the truth - my answer was exactly like this, "I consider myself bi, even though I've never been with a dude." Which veered the conversation into that direction - This person seemed interested into trying to help me, asking me out. I was a bit perplexed, but like I said, I know myself well enough to admit that I was ran over the "Jackie train", and I was interested in giving this guy a chance - that wasn't an app for fake relationships, and he was responding to a call for help from a suicidal person. I was only hesitant over the fact that I had just came out of a long-distance relationship, but then it hit me - before you accept the chat - it doesn't display any stats from the person trying to reach you, but once you do, the details appear, and I didn't pay attention at that particular detail - he lived 6 miles away from me. Meaning, the same town, only far away from my own place. A much better arrangement than another city, another state, another country. We were chatting in English, because he is a rather fluent, self-taught English teacher.
Well...things went surprisingly well, I was motivated again, I began the long and ardous attempt on quitting smoking, because of his allergies. Also, I cleaned out the attic, in a process that took me days to accomplish. But even so, when he got there, I could feel his allergies acting up. So, I took out more disposable items. Then, a few weeks later, my father offered to get the attic properly roofed, and it helped a lot with the dust problems. I even bought a wood-cleaning product for the floor, and broke my back cleaning that thing "the old-fashioned way."
But, like all my "love stories", it seems that I just can't get along, or understand, I dunno - everyone that loves me to that level. Being depressed and with low-zero-self-esteem did not help. We talked mostly through Telegram, on the web, and we fought a lot...because of me, of course.
Because my self-value is so low, sometimes it....felt too good to be true. And ordinarilly, this gets me a red flag inside my head, one that I always had - when things are too good, something terrible is going to happen.
And so, it did, for he could not stand me, and left me with only a lot of warnings to not contact him until HE saw fit.
So, hello darkness. My old friend.
Sometimes, I think I deserve to be alone...while other times, I feel like I MUST stay alone, for I end up disappointing everyone. I'm a disaster, that he wanted fixed overnight. Can't be done.
"I'm all alone again...."
