There Was No Thief

As I walked to the Library,

I hoped you would follow me.

I needed you to ask me if I was okay.

I was crying for help.

I wanted you to sit down next to me, but I did not think you would. My heart is filled of doubt of every sort.

You sat down next to me.

You asked me immediately what was wrong.

I always, unfortunately, have my emotion written all over my face, hopelessly holding it despite how much I want to hide how I feel.

And, I knew you saw right through.

I was cold to you.

Cold and rude and lame.

And angry.

Furious.

You walked away in anger as I refused to talk to you.

Everything in me wants to talk to you.

If you ever read this.

God, I hold back so much emotion in school. These past few weeks I have been thinking of screaming as loud as I can in the middle of class. I often wish to get up and throw my desk across the room.

Its actually really fucking embarrassing how close I come to tears in class.

I know how to solve this, talk to someone.

Honestly here is what I want someone to hear. What I need someone to know.

I feel there is this passionate fire for people in my heart, an undying love that wants to heal man's pain, by sharing and living strongly in the Gospel, the only thing truly capable of restoring this fucked up world. But I fear, to the point of intense despair, that my fire for change will be snuffed out by my incompetence.

Everyone I talk to tells me to quit fighting for lost causes. That I'm in over my head, and I need to back down before I hurt myself or someone else.

I don't want to back down. I know deep in my heart, beyond the facts that I exist and that the sun will rise tomorrow morning, that this is my calling.

It is my hope for a purpose, to be God's hand, to love, and everything around tells me to give it up.

I am not just scared, I am terrified.

I want to tell this to someone.

But apparently I scare everyone off. Sometimes it seems like everyone I love is disgusted by me.

I don't know whats wrong with me.

Sometimes when I talk to people, I feel like they tuck everything into a pocket, where the crazy talk goes. I feel like you do this as well as Annalese. I feel like sometimes even Will does this. Like Im being over dramatic and ridiculous.

I do not wish to be. I often hate the way I am. And I am trying constantly to change myself. To better myself. To be sane enough to be heard....

It doesn't take much to send me stumbling. I will just start to feel off. As if I'm chemically imbalanced.

But I don't want more pills. I want an actual solution.

I am slipping but I am smart enough not to grab for twigs.

Maybe they do see me as just a pessimistic self-loathing self-centered incompetent naive boy who has no tact. And maybe that actually is my issue...

Yes I have faith. I know I have quite a lot of faith. I can be loving and kind and optimistic beyond reason. I know somewhere deep in me there is great potential. I know in me there is a sweet song. The song is soft, and hard to hear in a time like this.

That potential, hides behind all my ugly trophies of all my failure. Those trophies are old ghosts.

I invest an incredible amount of love in everyone who comes anywhere close to me. I invest it easily and quickly. I invest it naturally. This is my nature.

All who know me know this.

Every time I love a person, they become part of me. That love becomes like a tightly woven fabric that comprises the contents my heart.

And while it may take you a couple of weeks to remove me from your life, I spend months and months tearing you out of myself. Trying to move on. Trying to get past the dreams and the constant involuntary flashbacks. Months of lieing about how you feel so that they dont rise up to haunt you again.

There isn't a day where I don't think about you still. Quite honestly, I hate it. I am so worn and so frustrated. Today was particulatelly bad.

If you couldn't tell already, this blog is something of a cry for help. This blog linked to my facebook and its free for anyone to see. Thats the thing about the internet. Your thoughts arent solitary. But as you can see my thoughts have never been solitary whether I want them to be or not. But this is more of an actual deceleration that I want help.

I hate calling out for help now. People look at me like I'm hopeless or crazy, like I am totally improper holding those emotions out in front of them. Plus, I feel like a self-pitying wretch, that or some hopelessly fanatic and delusional Christian.

But I guess its better than fueling up on whiskey, or self mutilating, or drowning my sorrows in the countless bottles of pills I have access to.

But really and honestly, I tired of not being able to sleep. I'm tired of the nightmares when I do sleep. I'm tired of being avoided by my friends. I'm tired of my endless hallow gaze as I try to retain composure. So if you've cared enough to read through all of this, you get to see me say it.

I need help. I need someone to listen. I need someone to listen to my story, all of it, the Gospel included. I am slipping away from existence.

Julianne. For the longest time you were that person. I loved you with all I had. You loved me like I didn't know someone could. You changed the way I look at the world. You broke my heart thrice. You have replaced me with someone else. We are so far away from each other now. I don't know if you are happy, despite the fact that I see you everyday. I hope you are. When I saw how sick you got at choosing between me and Alex I backed off. Then I was angry, cause I never believed that you would choose him over me. I hurt you. And I may have hurt you again today. I'm sorry. I regret my actions with every fiber of my being. My impulsive behavior has caused so much unneeded destruction to our hearts. You moved on. You asked me to as well. I am trying my best. But you see right through me. You see the state I'm in. When you left, I wasn't just losing the only girl I wanted to be with, but I lost a person who played an incredible role in my life. You were that person that I need so desperately right now.

God, when you asked me for help, I utterly failed you.

Im so sorry.

My heart is not filled to the brim with coldness and ugliness. My heart refuses to give up a portion of you. If you would, come back, find me, and ask me again.

Cause really Julianne, I'm not okay. I feel utterly alone. I feel I am the witness of horrendous crimes, and I have been rendered ineffective in stopping their effects.

There is no thief that stole my hope. Its deep inside me. I get distracted and deviate. So help me, by God if you love me.