Drunk rambling with loads of typos, I'm sure

I might be a little drunk. Maybe even a little too drunk to drive. I made it home. Safely.

Drinking may not have been my best idea in hindsight. Drinking brings back everything that I've worked this week to put past me. Drinking makes me stay up when I'm tired and blog to the internet about how much my life sucks. Drinking is going to make me cry myself to sleep. Drinking was a shit terrible idea.

I have worked this entire week to make everything okay. If nothing else, I've worked to make everything that is in my head...go away. I try not to think about it. When I think about it, I seal myself off to everyone. Then I try to forget it. It's worked for the most part.

I don't want to sit here and be emo anymore. Sound familiar? It should. Look at most all of the blog posts on this page. They're all about overcoming my crippling depression and making my life good. Thinking positive thoughts, being logical. All of them. Almost. I don't want to make this another one of those posts. I'm tired of making, apparently, empty promises both to myself and others. I'm also tired of bitching and whining and moaning about stupid stuff. I'm sick of it all. I want to have fun. I want to see my friends and know that life is okay.

My biggest problem is that I want to be important to someone. Okay, yes, specifically someone, but also generally. As anti-social as I can be, I want someone to wake up in the morning and wonder how I'm doing. I want people to wonder if I'm okay when I'm not there to prompt the idea.

I am terrified, utterly terrified, of being forgotten. You might say it's my biggest fear.

Is it logical? No. Not at all. But it's there. Someday I'll beat it. Someday I'll look in the mirror and I won't cringe. Someday I'll be happy with myself both inside and out. To think of where I was to where I am now is comforting. Does that make sense? Fuck no. I am not well, per se, but I am also happier with myself then I have been in the past. I am just scared. I cannot bare the thought of loosing the most important person in my life. Sound dramatic? Maybe it is. Maybe it's so illogical it's laughable. Maybe in a few months I'll laugh and how silly I am being. I hope so. I am just scared. Over a year ago, I laid eyes on the most influential person that's ever walked into my life. I told myself, correctly, that she was going to be someone that I needed. I didn't want to believe how much I would need her, because I was scared then and afraid to be wrong. I've realized now that my gut feelings...are often right. As God as my witness, I had a feeling that I would be in this situation, in this time period.

Sure, it could be coincidence. It was bound to happen. Right?...Right? But how could I call it so perfectly? It doesn't make sense.

I am a pessimist at heart. I would rather admit defeat before I need to, then bother building myself up for what can only be complete devastation. It is easier to believe that something will hurt me, than that something will help me. (IE, seeing my current situation was easier to believe than seeing that we were going to be together in the first place.)

"Seeing" makes me sound like I think I'm psychic. I'm not. I just have gut feelings. They haven't often lead me astray. So I hope that, despite this week's set back, I can find it in me to believe that things will be okay. That I will not be forgotten. That the one that I love the most won't abandon me in the worst kind of way.

I do believe that. But sometimes I need a little help. Sometimes I need to be reminded of the truth. Sometimes seems more often than not. I am sorry. I don't mean to be so needy. In fact, I hate it. I don't think I really have to mention that. Sometimes, though, when I send stupid, emotional, surprisingly not drunk texts...it's because I need that extra yes. It's because I need to know that, logically, I am not a nobody. I am a somebody. I am special, if even just a small amount, to someone.

Sometimes. I want to have that one, single, rouge tear wiped away. I want to be looked in the eye and told, "Hey...you're important to me. And I'm not going anywhere."

And you know what? I've been told that. And it's like a pain killer. It works the first time, every time. But like most pain killers, it's an addiction. I do my best to go without. I do my best to build up tolerance. Until I can absolutely bear it no more. Until the weight of the world crushes me and pins me to my self-loathing pity party.

I'm not pathetic. I'm fucking awesome. Fuck you if you don't agree. But even the strongest of the strong have moments. I just have a lot. I've seen a lot of things, I've been left by a lot of people. I can't bear loosing my best friend again. Not now. Not you. Fuck that. I'll fight until I have no life left.

But I don't need to fight. That's the beauty. I just have to live. That's it. Don't fix what ain't broken. That's somewhat accurate. I am constantly trying to correct what my mind tells me is wrong. It's not wrong. It's me being paranoid. It's me afraid. I am scared. A lot.

I hold the real truths to be self evident. I will not be left behind like a useless speck of the past. I am the present. I will always be part of the present. I just need to learn that, to remember that.

I just want the comfort of knowing I'm always important. Is that so much to ask?