Dreaming in red.

Sometimes, I just don't know about myself. I look back on the the things I've said and done and can't believe it was me. How did I ever think things were okay? What made me think anything was getting better? Everything is so bleak, yet the grayness is oddly soothing. I just want something beautiful, something real, to break this spirit I'm falling into. The world seemed so magical, so amazing just days ago. Where did it go? Why has it abandoned me? I just want to feel like this means something again. I'm starting to hit that old, familiar feeling, like I'm just going through the motions, numb and listless, half-heartedly pretending to enjoy things so people won't hate me for bringing them down. It's just not worth explaining it anymore, it's better to just fake it than have to try to talk about it sometimes. Everyone wants to know why and just can't accept the fact that I don't even know what's wrong. This feeling comes and goes, but I just can't shake it for long. Everyone wants to fix it, but I don't want them to fix it, I just want them to understand. I deserve it, it's my punishment, my burden to bear, and I'm fine with that. Let me die in pain like I should. Stop trying to make me something I'm not. I'm never going to just be "okay". I just wish I had people I could talk to about it without them trying to tell me I'm fucked up and I need help. That I need to change. That being what I am is wrong somehow. Just let me deal with it the best way I know how, and listen when I need to talk. I wish someone could just be there and not always try to fix me when I'm broken. I can fix myself, in my own way. Just let me be me.