Sinking into despair

Sometimes I wish I did not have feelings. Sometimes I wish that my heart weren't so soft. Sometimes I wish I could not see the love around me, for they are drowning me with their happiness, for they remind me of what I could have had, of what I had but thrown away. I run, I run, I run, far away in my dreams, to some place deserted, where the only memory of another human being are the blinking lights of airplanes far above. I do not want to remember for Memory Lane is just a circular route around lingering pain.

Feeling for someone is the first step to caring for him, and this where I wish I can cut my emotions off. I do not want to be feel for this person. I do not want to care for this person to only find that was one-sided or that was mere a fling, or perhaps something to amuse him, to pass time with while he searches for someone better, prettier, thinner, smaller. He does not know how I feel, or I does he? If he does, he is cruel. I am done remembering. What if I had never known what is it to want and need, to feel for another person? Wouldn't it be bliss to not know? Would that not be that better overall? I cannot hurt if I do not know. I hurt.

I cannot yield in to this; I will not, for if I do, I will destroy our bond, tenuous as it already is. No, this is a no go. I should forget him, I should forget it all? Put it all aside and concentrated on my work. Isn't that better? Isn't that what I really want?

No.