There were things that resonated with me; I found myself crying when Love of My Life played. I think you and I have that deep understanding. I told Spencer so after the movie about this feeling. It was somehow deeper than anything romantic, somehow platonic and, I don’t know, simply human about it? He asked if it was because Mary was the first to accept Freddie. It must have been, but it was also this immediate understanding and connection that I’m not fully capable of articulating. I just remember that when we first met it felt like I finally found the friend I’ve been searching for. I’m lucky to have found something like this in my life. I know that if I die soon I still want you in my life even if you’re no longer mine.
I don’t love myself. Hell, I don’t even like myself. I’ve been trying to fix this by loving other people. And maybe that’s why I love so deeply. But it always leaves me empty with a lingering and growing darkness. I’m trying to become the person I always wanted to become. I’m trying to bring out that person inside me that I’ve hidden for so long. And I’m not sure I like him right now. My skin feels like a cage, you know? Tattoos are like prison wall scrapings. Self harm is somehow a fleeting release. And well, suicide is always a thought I’ve repressed, jammed into the deepest cranny my subconscious.
Loneliness and family. I’ve struggled with this. Feeling like no one loves me. Feeling an intense loneliness. And the sad part is when I’m clear minded, I know it’s not true. I have my family. I have my co-workers who feel like another family. I have my few friends and their families that have graciously accepted me. I have so many people who would be destroyed if I died. And I know somehow it all goes back learning to love myself. I just don’t know how to do that? Maybe this should be a new goal for myself this year.