Shit...

I'm terrified.
Please let this work out.
Please don't let him be let every other jerk face out there. Please.
I know he's scared. I know he's never had a true relationship. I am too. I mean, I've had real relationships, but I'm still fucking terrified.
Just trust me. Please.
I won't hurt you if you won't hurt me.

Sometimes I feel...

Like I don't exist except to be a pest. Like that stupid proverbial elephant in the room, literally and figuratively. Like I shouldn't be here. That I'm not wanted except for when someone needs someone, then *snap*, I exist again, only to *snap* back into not existing when my advice isn't the advice wanted or needed. Like I'll never be more than humanity's scapegoat.

I just... I just need a reason to exist. This half existing, half not existing shit is tiring. I pretend like I don't give a shit, but really, I'm so tired of it all. Michael made it pretty fucking clear last night that I'm one of the best actresses that isn't famous... and for what? Pretending that I'm not terrified of the idea of having to open up and start anew with someone else. That I appear to have everything under control, that I run an airtight ship, with nothing ever going awry that I wouldn't have already predicted and therefore disaster never lasts more than five seconds. Oh Michael, if you only knew... I'm never in control. I'm never 100% composed. I mean, I know I hinted and told you some of the shit that made me that way, but I still don't think you got it. I'm this way because of an asshole and I'll stay this way until I find a reason for living that doesn't include half existing half the time.

*sigh* I don't know. I just... blah. I just don't know.