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it's hard to leave the feeling of worthlessness behind. behind every compliment I hear sarcasm and pity. silence is contempt. I wonder why I'm still here, why nobody seems to have really noticed yet how much of a waste of space I am.
I'm not very good at anything, never good enough to be notable in any way. my life is a litany of interests and opportunities half-pursued, abandoned by the wayside due to lack of motivation and drive. it's not that I can't dream big. I just lack the ability and the courage to realise those dreams.
I lack the courage to do many things, actually. but I'm not sure whether that's just an excuse I've internalised for incredible laziness. am I timid, or am I just so lazy I appear timid? I'm not sure how I'm supposed to tell the difference, and the result is the same: nothing happens.
there is a vase of roses on my desk. my boyfriend left them for me before he went away a few days ago; he's back tomorrow evening. and when I look at this vase of roses, the first time anyone's bought me flowers, I'm just filled with confusion. why does he love this worthless creature? the girl who sits at her PC and mopes all evening, who cries doing the dishes, who cries in bed at night, who cries in the bathroom at work because she can't handle it anymore.