She loves me. She really does. She's given up so much for me, made so many compromises, so many sacrifices all for me. She's always been there for me. But what have I done for her? What reason have I given her that makes it all worthwhile?
No one will ever read this. I don't care. I will keep talking. Years ago, on one of my earlier blogs, I thought it'd be an entertaining idea to write about various people, unnamed of course, that did things that I thought were silly, questionable, or downright stupid. I wrote about relationships, academics, whatever. I called it, "The Origins of Idiocy". Well, the author has now become the subject. The final subject of this series is me, and I will be called, "The Undeserving".
They say love is blind. It really is. This has been made painfully obvious to me. All I ever wanted to do was to make her happy, but now I'm getting the impression that what would make her happy is to be far and away from me, or for me to be gone. What did I ever do to deserve unconditional love? You'd think that someone this blessed would be grateful for such a gift, value it like they would their own lives. But what have I done to deserve it? I'll tell you what: Nothing. Less than nothing. I've actually made life worse for her. She cares so deeply about me, she wants me to have a good life, wants me to take care of myself. These are positive aspirations, aren't they? Before I got sick again, she wanted me to take classes so I would be ready for my upcoming university courses. I didn't sign up for any. She wanted me to learn to drive during the long period I had with nothing to do, so I could go places, be more free. I didn't do it. She wanted me to get off my lazy ass once in a while and even show the slightest desire to make something of myself. I didn't. These aren't huge demands. These aren't selfish ambitions. These are requests so I can live a better life, so I can have a better future. And what did I do? I squandered my time, and hers. I deflected, I made excuses.
I am undeserving. Of everything. I don't deserve any of it. I don't deserve to be loved so deeply. I don't deserve to be cared about. Over and over, I make her jump through the same hoops of imploring me to better myself, and then making excuses that make her forget about it for a little while. It hurts her, and I hate myself for it.
I hate myself for the burden I am to her, and all those that care about me. I take, and take, and take, and I give nothing back. I'm a leech on their time, on their attention, on their love. And how do a I react to all this? Self-pity.
I mope, and I berate myself, and I write shitty blogs about it that no one will read. I keep doing that, it's an endless cycle of sloth, confrontation, and then pity and self-loathing. And I don't do anything about it. I know what I do is wrong, and I don't change. How can a human being have such a combination of unredeemable qualities? I am a useless individual. People have to know, so they can save themselves from ever being near me.
I'll tell you a story. For over a year now, she and I have been in almost constant contact. We text, we IM. We call each other now and then. No, that's a lie. She calls me, she calls me all the time. I barely call her. It's sparse at best. It took my brother telling me it'd be a good idea to call her regularly for me to realize that texting and actually hearing each other's voices is so different. I had to be taught this. Here I was, all blissfully content that we were texting a lot, and chatting online. Oh I don't need to call her, thought me, this method of communication works just fine! Well fuck me. She was right to be angry when I did call her. It's not something that should be taught. The gesture is moot if it didn't come from the heart. Am I so oblivious that this didn't occur to me? Yup.
It's the little things that matter the most. So guess what, it's the little things I miss the most, as in they fly right by me and I don't even notice. The weekend before her birthday, she got really sick. I didn't go see her because I thought she should rest, and me being there would aggravate her sickness. If you're thinking at this point: "Wtf, is he an idiot?", the answer is yes. What the fuck, how could I be so stupid? The answer is simple, I'm a waste of air, water, and assorted organic elements. She ended up getting upset, and getting sicker. Good job me, another fuckup for the list. It's a long fucking list. How in the world did I think that not visiting her when she really could use some support was actually helping her? If your answer is, because you're a fucking jackass, you win points.
So what has this observer, me, uncovered about the subject, also me? I'm a lazy, escapist, self-loathing, self-pitying, inconsiderate, oblivious, misguided, resource-leeching, time-wasting, self-centered, narcissistic fucktard that deserves as much love as anyone would have for a brain tumour growing in their heads. The only feeling that anyone should feel towards me is hate, and loathing like something gross you have to scrape off the underside of your shoe.
As for those that care about me, get away. Get away while you still can. Nothing good will come of your relationship with me. I'm sorry about all the trouble I've caused. I'm sorry about everything. None of you deserve any of this, especially you. You know who you are. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and you're also the person I've been the most horrible to. If you never talk to me again, if I never see you again, I have only myself to blame. There are few truly evil people in the world. I'm the worst one. There are lots of people that kill, that hurt those they hate. But I hurt those that I love. And that is by far the worst crime there is.
I'm sorry, and I love you, forever.
