Don't waste your time on me, you're already a voice inside my head.

TThere are better people than me out there, so fuck off and go look for them. I thought.
But thankfully didn't say.
Is this my problem? This total disdain for cultivating relationships? This total mistrust of everyone and everything? This total lack of acknowledgement of the people I do have and care for? This seething anger bubbling just beneath the surface waiting to break free at the slightest hint of imperfection from me? While I am imperfect, I know it I make no bones about it. There are better people than me out there. People heralded as always being happy, as always being counted on... the people who laugh through the worst of circumstances... I laugh. I do. I've laughed through such spirit crushing turn of events that really would crush a spirit. Life is at its worst when it hits you again and again with one disappointment after another, with yourself, with people who you expect better from. My solution: stop expecting.
But then someone comes along who makes you believe through countless lies and even more truths that this time around you got it 'made in the shade'. That there is nothing that is too much. But there is, there always is something that is too much. And your biggest mistake was believing them. Unfortunately though, sometimes they cut you so deep that whatever frame of mind you had to fall back on drips out along with the surface facade and all you're left with is a carcass quickly drying off of any viable means of sustenance, be it mental or physical or spiritual. They leave you tossing and turning in turmoil and anger and such a cruel melancholy of spirit that everything you've ever believed is abandoned. What do you do then? DO you laugh?
Would they laugh? These people better than I? These people heralded by their friends as being immaculate, beyond reproach? Perfect?
I guess yeah. They would. For I do too. In this total absence of any logical plan of action to be undertaken, lets laugh. Lets snort through our noses and let spit fly. Guffaw. Laugh so hard that you can't even hear your spirit groaning beneath the surface. Turn up the volume to max on em vocal chords. Lets say if life gets to you through that noise.
It does. If not life than memories. They do. For every time you laugh harder, a tear refuses to fall.
You know Tobey? From West wing? The speechwriter for the President? He is I. NO not the job or the triumph... but the inner battle that rages on within him. His ex-wife told him she would not marry him even after he got her her dream house. Why? He asked.
Because you're too sad for me Tobey.
Two minutes from giving birth to their twin daughters she tells him he’s too sad for her. Can you imagine how Tobey must've felt? Know one wants to know they're sad. Not the sad that equates with loser. But the sad that points at the defeat of spirit that will undeniably cut you to pieces. Sad. Tobey. Sad Tobey. And knowing this makes him sadder still. Because well, he got rejected by the only women who he ever wanted to be accepted by. Who he was accepted by. Because he couldn't turn off the sadness in his heart, he couldn't turn off the anger long enough to smell the roses. Long enough to know that what his beloved’s friends say about her is all true. That she's radiant. That she's gorgeous. That she's always happy. That she can smile through the pain like it’s nobody’s business. That they have never seen her angry, never seen her sad. HALLELUJAH,
Tobey has. Tobey has seen her anger, he's seen her sad. He's seen her miserable and he's been there to hold her in his arms and stroke her hair till the tears stopped falling from her eyes. He's patted her off to sleep with her mother's hand printed on her throat from trying to strangle her. He's calmed her down from the sheer shock of being attacked by random bastards on a random road. He’s believed her when she said she’d rather die than belong to anyone else...
And right now every thing is turning blue, and right now the sun is trying to kill the moon. And right now I wish I could follow you... but I don't know where you've gone. You will belong to someone else now, and its okay for you. But for me stuck to that stupid promise of a naive heart it will never be. But Laugh son LAUGH! Its okay. It was her promise and she broke it. Laugh. Promises are broken everyday. Laugh. They'll never see her angry. Laugh. They'll never see her sad. Laugh.

Sooner or later you’ve got to stop laughing. Sooner or later you've got to take stock of what you've left. Sooner or later you've got to stop feeling worse than everybody else whose been chosen over you. Sooner or later you've got to choose life. Sooner or later you've got to let go of the memories. Sooner or later you've got to become what you've fought so long. Sooner or later you’ve got to change.
And change again when everything you’ve tried turns to dust and slips through your fingers. When a face you see in your dreams becomes a stranger. When the unknown friends of a once known beloved make you feel incomplete. When you reel from a punch that never landed. When you're looked past for acceptance, when you're pinpointed to take the blame. When you remember the angry face of someone whose never angry, when you taste the tears of someone whose never cried.

But till then, laugh. Laugh so everyone thinks you're okay and you don't have to suffer the indignity of being told that even when you know its inevitable to be okay.
And laugh also to let the ones who'd make you cry know that they can't. Even when you know if you look in the mirror and see the reflection that stands besides you no longer, you will cry. And laugh so that when you sit alone in your room filled with the scent of a skin you'll never smell again, the pain doesn't take your breath away.
Turn down the heater, put out the cigarette. Switch the music off. Shutdown the computer. Close your eyes.
Laugh.