(Lost-}
{2003-03-26} {6:05 p.m.}
Today I spent the whole day talking to Synthia on the net. It was our last day together until she goes home. Inside I am falling apart, yet on the outside I am holding myself together pretty well. I don’t want my kids to see how sad I am. I don’t want to go through a day with out her, when I just begun to get close to her. I am so close to crying I hate it. If I cry I will be even more depressed, and no one is here to help me. I finally meet someone who cares for me and loves me, and in the blink of an eye they are gone. I feel like my whole world is falling apart. I sit here and think about what a shitty father my kids have and how he thinks that he doesn’t have to do shit. All I get is crap from people all around me. I feel like I am the most unworthy person in the world. I have to constantly struggle with the crap my caseworker feeds me, and deal with being shit on so much that all it is doing is bringing me down again. The one person that made me stay alive was Synthia, and now that she’s gone I have nothing. I feel like my whole life is nothing but a charade. All of these ludicrous accusations being held against me. It’s stupid and comical. Because the people that really know me should know differently. I haven’t smoked weed in freaking months. Gave up drinking months ago, as well. I basically don’t do anything anymore. I feel like I am living in a penitentiary. An icy, sinister area with no outlet for freedom. My prison where I have no independence because my own existence is being raped by the justice system. Is this reality going to continue to be my way of life? Everything feels like a scene in a horror movie. My terror of living in the dreadfulness of it all. All of the things are moving very silently in a panoramic view. I am so close to hitting the panic button.
I try to observe everything from a backwards glance; but all I see is a fleeting look at a ghostly shadow from my past. A vaporously eerie feeling as it catches up with me at a slow steady pace. Feeling unbalanced I fall back into the pain at a disturbed rate. This slow painful motion picture of what I call a life. I don’t do drugs, or drink but yet I am accused of living the life of a substance abuser.
All of these nonessential facts are of no essence, but people still hang on every word and harp on me about having a better tomorrow. No one knows what I feel. No one understands my pain. Maybe 2 or 3 people. But, that’s only because they know me more than anyone else. I have become a recluse and I don’t share my feelings with no one anymore. I don’t want to. I get rejected or I am defined as a whiner. So, therefore I say nothing. Maybe it’s better for me this way, but then again maybe it isn’t. I have no one to confide in anymore. Why should I? I am nothing but abandoned and unwanted. The superfluous feelings I have are redundant and needless. Just like me. I guess that I am not required to be loved, except for being loved by Synthia. And if it takes only her to make me happy, then so be it.
I miss her a lot already. It would be a wonderful surprise to see her come online and say “Hey Baby Girl! I have one more day”
I would just be so happy. I would get to hear her sweet voice sing to me again. And I would get to see all of her hugs on screen. But, I know that isn’t going to happen because Josh and Amy had to be ass fucks and take the computer away from her. 2 weeks… That’s going to seem like forever. If anyone cares at all I would love some hugs right about now.
Tasha? Pammie? Where are you???
I miss you both-
I love you Synthia- Always.
-Temporarily Without End-
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