It was just a thought.

Sobriety. It is a fantasy I've been unable to attain thus far. Every time I think I can do it, I realize I can't. That's how I am with confidence too. I think that maybe I can have some. Then I realize, I don't. I don't have a drop of confidence in me. There was a point in time, long ago, not so long ago, when I was confident. When I didn't need anything to make me feel like I was important. Special. Needed. Real. I just knew it. I knew God created me and was going to do something incredible with my life. That confidence has gone. My worth has now disolved into the bedsheets and I am nothing. I am not important. Nor special. Nor needed. I often doubt that I am even real. I wonder if God really did create everyone with a purpose. A plan. Maybe not everyone has a purpose for living, we just do simply because we don't know any better. Are some people just space fillers? Am I one of those people? I used to really believe that God gave me such a hard life so He could use me in some amazing way. Now I wonder if God didn't even give me this life. Maybe I created all of this myself. Maybe I was just destined to be nothing. I feel like I'm holding onto this life by the skin of my teeth. Just with the hope that maybe, if I can get through all of this, there will be something amazing waiting for me. But I'm beginning to strongly doubt it and I really think that maybe I should just let go. Pain is only worth it if there is something to be attained at the end of it all. Through all these years of pain, you would think that by now I might have something to show for it. But all I have are these ugly scars and suffocating fears. I don't think it's worth it anymore. Used. Over and over and over again. It gets tiring, it really does. My heart is being held together by weak thread, threatening to unravel at any given moment. Maybe it's just time I take a seam-ripper to it and put myself out of my misery. I know it's selfish. I know some may find it overdramatic. But I don't care at this point. For once, I want to do something for me. The other night at work, he backed me up against the wall, whispering sickeningly thick, "You want me to prove I'm not gay? Want me to prove it right here? Right now?" Fear ran up my spine and twisted my stomach. All I could choke out was "...no...no..." I'm tired of feeling that fear. I am. I don't want to be afraid anymore. I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to feel like the only time I'm wanted is when my mouth is shut and my legs are spread. I don't want to feel that way anymore. I want to feel loved and needed. I want to feel like the little girl I once was. Many empty, dirty nights have separated me from her so far that I barely remember what she looked like. How did it feel to be loved and wanted just because I existed? How did that feel? I can't remember. I would give anything to go back in time and freeze those years forever. Anything at all. I just want to be loved. For me. In all of my faults and inadequecies. I don't think this world is meant for me. I think that maybe God made a mistake. I think maybe I'm one of those space-fillers. I know God must love me. He must. I want to go be with Him. I want to feel loved. I want to lay next to him in a room full of yellow balloons. Looking up at them through the strings. Next to the one who really, truly loves me. For me.