Disposable

I feel dejected. I feel hurt. I feel that no matter how good of a friend I am, that I can never be the person that you want. I feel like I'm used. I feel like a Kleenex. Sneeze into it, cry into it, and then throw it in the waste basket and more on.

Hurt? Of course I feel hurt. I feel as if I have poured myself out to help you, but in doing so I leave myself empty. Is it my fault? Yes, for doing so. Is it your fault? Yes, for letting me.

Used. I feel used. Worn. I feel worn. Trampled, stepped on, abused. Consciously? Perhaps not. It doesn't make it easier. I do this to myself. I set myself up for this.

Do you want to know why most men are assholes? It's really quite interesting. I thought about this tonight. The few that actually might be nice, get treated like trash. They get treated like they're disposable. So, in order to protect themselves, they don't allow themselves to feel. If they can reverse it, if they can view other people as disposable, then they are no longer disposable themselves.

I need to be needed. This is how I derive 90% of my self worth. There is no better way to ruin me, to crush my spirit, to destroy me, then to confide in me and then throw me to the wayside. I don't want to become an asshole. I want to be able to be a friend to those who need it. I feel like I need to though. I don't open myself up to many people, but when I do, it always seems I get hurt. Some might rather feel pain than nothing at all, but not me. I would rather feel nothing. I would rather be floating free in a sea of oblivion. Oh, for the day when I can truly detach from my emotions. When I can look down from about in logical clarity, analyzing these strange feelings, but never really feeling them.

I know I shouldn't be hurt. I know you owe me nothing. I know I gave my support willingly and I tried to expect nothing in return. I can't help myself though. I can't help it. Disposable is a good word. Yes, I feel disposable.