I hide because I hate.

I hate myself. I long for the day when I'm just not here anymore. There are so many things that I want to do with my life and too many struggles to overcome. I sometimes think that I won't make it, but I know I have to.

I want to see something other than this city, be something other than this sad mess and waste of skin. I want to sit in silence instead of surrounded by noise, I just want a minute of peace.

I'm trying so hard, and nothing is working. If it isn't one hurdle that I have to jump as I run through my life, three more stand in the way of my goal, and I know I can't give up because of the people who need me, but yet.. I'm so tired. I can't wait for the day when I've finally done everything I need to do. I'd finally be free of my troubles.

I, just hate myself. I hate everything that I've let myself become, I hate myself because I let myself fall into this deep hole that I have to climb out of, I did this to myself and I hate myself. And because of this hatred for myself, I hide. I fake everything. I smile even though its rough, I don't cry, I don't do anything. I'm afraid that I'm so far gone into this depression and apathy that there is nothing human about me left.

And through all of this, I just want to be loved. I haven't had a good, genuine, hug in god knows how long. God, I just want to be hugged and to be touched by someone who feels I mean something to them. I just want to be in love. But I can't even love myself, so I can't bear to allow someone else into this nightmare of my life. But.. I do want it.

I envy people who've found their loves, their ones.. I even envy people who have issues with their relationships because.. I want that. I know I'd be good for someone eventually. I even hate those that mess up a good thing by cheating, I see so many stories here of unfaithful people, and it makes me want to scream at them and curse them to a life of loneliness. And I keep reading all of these.. happy stories of how people met and torture myself and wish that I could have something like that.

I wish I could do drugs. I wish I could smoke weed, I wish I could drink alcohol and drown my sorrows in it, but I can't even bring myself to do that. How pitiful.

This sounds like a bunch of self loathing, but I'm tired. I'm afraid that if I didn't find the time to get this out tonight, there wouldn't be a next week for me. So.. back into hiding I go, no more emotions.. no more nothing, just a mask with no spirit behind it.

I really, really hate myself.