I'm a fucking ruin in Entries of Great Significance

Take the blade and bury it deep
Draw the lines and drag it across
Slowly and deliberate
Make sure you bleed hard
Let the tide flow
Let it breathe

And I find my fingers
Around this scalpel
They call love
I call it my trust
And you call me weak
A betrayer and a fool
Just another user
A lost soul
Pathetic
Meek

What is it about me
That burns brightly
And then flickers
Is not worth you to keep
What is it about me
That burns brightly
And then flickers
Is not worth you to keep
What is it about me
That burns brightly
And then I flicker
Is not worthy of anyone

Not worthy of love

Not worthy of trust

Not worth a damned thing

This last year I have been broken. I don’t like myself. I don’t care about myself. I don’t want to live anymore. I’m tired of smiling and making those I love laugh and trying and always ending up on the end of a knife. The end of a cold steel table. Surgical steel. And I’m alone.

Always fucking alone.

And yet I’ll pick myself up.

I’ll dust myself off.

I’ll stand back up.

And what do I do? I try to make everyone around me better. Happier. More stable. I want to make you smile. I want to make you feel alive again. I want you to find love and happiness.

While I go home at night and sit alone in a dark corner.

Reminiscing on all the lovely gifts and lines and thoughts from so many that have done such wonderful things in appreciation of all I try to do..

And then the music stops.

The moon sinks.

And the mood is the same.

I’m alone with my thoughts.

My words.

And my emptiness.

I’m alone.

It amazes me that so many people have loved me and cared about me and even told me I am the strongest person they have ever met. The best man they have ever known. An inspiration.

And I am still alone at night.

Still alone.

Haunted by violence.

My childhood was everything you should never experience.

Abuse in every form.

Violence. Food Stamps. Nightmares. Robberies. Drugs. Cutting. Alcohol. Welfare. Blood. Burnings. Screams. Police. Anger. Resentment. Molestation. Sirens. Beatings. Blood.

A lot of blood.

Abuse.

A lot of abuse.

So many screams.

You name the misconduct and I fucking endured it and I had to find solace within my mind and somehow in my heart to survive.

I always had to survive.

“I don’t know how you’re able to pass as normal after everything you went through let alone always smile. I know I do not know what you went through. You never talk about it. But I know what little I saw myself. I don’t know how you do it. Ask Sam. I told her when we met, that you are the best man I have ever known. I look up to you, Brian. I love you, man.” – Steve

I am tired.

My last three years I ended up in an ambulance after 911 calls four times. I ended up having two month stays in the hospital every three months. I ended up having the 20th+ surgery of my life. I stopped counting. I ended up losing my mom after a long battle. I ended up finding out my ex whom I adopted cats with, bought a house with, had planned to marry, was cheating on me while I was in the ICU at the hospital fighting to live. She left. She took our cats. And I learned why we never had sex for over a year wasn’t because she just wasn’t sexual as she always claimed, but that she never found me attractive. She just didn’t want anyone else to have me, but she didn’t really want me either. Until she found someone else and moved on.

I got out of the hospital, and I had no time for recovery. I still haven’t, and honestly, I don’t really fucking want to anymore.

I’ve endured twice in my life going over 3 weeks without being able to eat or drink anything.

I had gangrene and beat it.

My body went septic inside, and they thought they’d lose my kidneys and I’d be on dialysis for the rest of my life. I survived.

My leg? If there’s a curvature of 10-15 degrees that requires surgery to fix.

My right leg was always my good leg. It’s fine.

My left has the Blount’s Disease.

My right leg at last evaluation? 14 degrees bent.

The left? 27 degrees. No ACL. Meniscus torn. All the other ligaments stretched beyond measure.

I have never known not being in pain.

And I’m tired of it.

I never knew my father. Abusive alcoholic. Wifebeater. Scum.

I always wanted to be a husband.

And a father.

And I’m 37 and I’m neither.

I do not think I ever will be.

I have always carried the burdens of others. My family. My friends. Anyone I found in distress. And I have almost never found anyone willing and capable of doing that for me.

Without wanting something else with it.

Without wanting me.

And I’m desperate and I’m alone and I’m lost and I am tired.

I have put off my next surgery.. because I know I won’t wake up from it. I won’t. I don’t want to. That’s how I know. I’m tired of learning how to walk again, eat again, sleep again, breathe again.. and being alone.

I’m a fuckup and a failure and a lot of terribly unhealthy things. An addict and an emotional mess and a bleeding heart romantic with loyalties that run so deep they aren’t always a good thing.

But if there is one thing I am honorable.

I am a good man and person.

I will not lie to you.

I will not take advantage of you.

I will always try to help you.

And I have never found someone who will do that for me the way I have been able to do that for others so easily.

Recently I met someone here, and I knew immediately she was different than others. I’m talking I had not felt this way in over a decade. And I cannot express to you how fucking terrified that made me. I would have changed my world for the chance .. because I knew immediately I trusted her. I knew immediately that she might be able to care for me the way I do others. There was this weird connection I have had happen so seldom.

And I made choices and decisions in my life that I felt were honorable.

And those choices and decisions might well have cost me this person.

And I don’t know what to think or feel or do.

I am sobbing and I am broken and I am not okay.

I wasn’t when I met her.

I’m worse now.

This isn’t about losing a girl.

It’s just another affirmation that this just isn’t for me. This world. This place. That no matter what I do – I’ll always ruin the best things I’ll ever find. Even when I feel I am doing the right thing.

And I don’t deserve a second chance.

I am constantly told that in life.

I’m this great guy right? This wonderful man? And yet they always leave me. They always move on. They always find someone or something else. They always find better.

And I am always alone.

Because I ruin things.

As much change as I have made in my life as hard as I have worked to not let the way I grew up dictate my life and my path and to NOT be those terrible things.. here I am.. alone and with pain and ruining good things.

And not deserving a chance.

Maybe if everyone feels I’m great, I am, but maybe if everyone feels I don’t deserve a chance.. maybe I don’t.

Maybe they are right.

And that’s why I am alone.

And all those nights of pain, they were just not circumstance, but a method to what I deserve. What I did then and what I do now. Ruin.

I ruin things.

That’s who I am.

And so this is what I deserve.

That’s not just words.

That is what the world – what everyone I’ve ever truly loved has shown.

And these tears and this broken man is finally listening.

And believing.

Last updated November 29, 2015