Things I've Been Meaning to Say to People, but Haven't

SO. This is a rant. This is me, bitching and moaning, for a while.

SO.

This is your last chance to not read this. Go on, I won't mind. I'm not ranting for your fucking sake, am I? No, I'm ranting for my sake. Because I don't think I can keep these things on my chest. I'm dying. Or at any rate, I feel like I'm dying a little, day by fucking day, just holding these feelings in. I'm not going to name names (mainly cause no one reading this will be the people I'm talking about, I figure), because they know what they've done. If they read this, they'll get it.

1) I've got problems. I'm the first one to admit that. I'm nervous about 95% of the time for reasons I can't explain. I get incredibly pissed off at the slightest incident. When I run into a problem, what is a tiny, microscopic problem that should only stop me for a minute, turns into a giant wall. And I'm afraid to climb that wall. So I don't. I have OCD that's turned into hoarding (I've kept every lighter that has ever ran out on me in a cabinet, I have old magazines from when I was 14). I'm afraid of rejection to a degree that I am afraid to even go out and meet people because I figure, what's the fucking point? not like they're gonna like me anyway. I've got the gayest sounding problem of all time, something called love shyness, which is stemming from all the fun social anxiety. Then I've got the whole depression thing, but who the fuck doesn't have that now? I'm paranoid as hell, I've got no self esteem, but somehow have managed to get a God complex. And I am trying to get a handle on everything. I'm trying my fucking hardest to get all my problems under control, so don't act like you're better then me cause you have two less problems then I do.

2) You know how much fucking trouble I got in for you? Every fucking day, for three fucking months, my family hated me. Because of you. And you don't seem to give two shits. For those three months, I lived through hell, all for you. Because you were one of my best fucking friends. And what did you do to repay me for what I suffered? You fuck the person you know I like. And you know, I don't care how fucking childish that sounds, but you stabbed me in the back and didn't even have to balls to tell me. I had to figure it out. Then, right when I put everything together, and only then, did you nut up and tell me. Don't try and turn this into a "ha I know you were bitter!" type of deal. I'm over the whole situation. I'm over everything but the fact that you didn't seem to care how I felt. I was hurt. I tried to do everything I could to get over it, because you know what? Even through all the shit you pulled on me, I JUST WANTED YOU TO BE HAPPY. And you both didn't seem to care. Every time I saw you together, I wanted to scream. But I didn't. For you. Never, ever say that I haven't given anything up for you. You know my family has now just gotten on good terms with me? It's taken me this long to get back to the way things were. But you know, this is the really sad part. I would fucking do it for you again.

3) I've missed you so much. I'm sorry for everything. It was my fault, I accept that. Jesus, the chance I have with someone who I've had feelings for the longest time, and I fuck it all up. You were the one shinning light in my year. This year has been one of the worst and hardest years of my life so far. But anytime I saw you, I felt happy. I was the happiest I've been in a very long time, and it was all because of you. But I fucked it all up. I screwed up. And I'm so sorry. I just... Lost my nerve. I got scared. And I let that fear ruin everything. Every day since you've left, at some point, I thought about you. I wanted to call you. I still do. But I can't. And I don't even know why I can't. I would give anything to stop myself from ruining it. I would do anything to be with you again. I'm afraid that you hate me (and you'd have every reason to). But you know what I'm really afraid of? I'm afraid that these feelings won't go away, and anytime I see you, I'm going to want to hold you. I'm going to want to kiss you. And I'm afraid that you're not going to want to deal with that.

There. Done.

I'm sorry if you read this and get offended. I really am. But I needed to get that all off of my chest.