Life

"Look. I don't need to talk. I'm fucking tired of talking. I just need someone to listen. Ok?" He doesn't answer, as if cue for her to continue.

"I don't like showing sadness. It's for fucking wusses. Even when I'm alone I don't like to shit like that. I just don't like talking about how I feel or felt or whatever. But... god dammit, this is the fucking worse. You know how many relatives I've had die from Cancer? 4. Fucking 4. 3 aunts, one uncle as of today. And for me, that's not even the shittiest part. My Grandpa never talked to us because he got in a arguement with my dad when I was younger. I remember seeing him once. And by then, he was already on his last legs. I only saw him fucking once. And guess what else? My cousin fucking committed suicide and I found out 2 days before my birthday. And my grandma? She's been bed ridden for 2 years. It's so painful to watch. It's probably the most painful of all this shit combined.

"My family is so fucked up. I'm so fucked up. I fucking hate my birthday. I hate it. It just reminds me of my cousin. How I'm alive and he's not. And dammit, the only relationship I've ever been in I can't even think about because it hurts. It stings not because any really painful stuff. Not that tragic of character. Because...well dammit I can't even explain it. I just hate thinking about it. I hate thinking about personally being in love. Or liking someone past plantonics. It makes me sick, like I'm physically unclean.

"And I never can bring myself to tell people seriously about this shit. Because I don't wanna talk about it. I don't want people to know. I probably have so many reasons to be a doctor to fill a fucking novel. Fuck that shit. Just no one needs to know. Usually it doesn't bother me too much, but well. My uncle died today. You know he was only diagnosed this year? THIS FUCKING YEAR. Why didn't he go earlier? Why didn't he get some fucking help earlier. Then he'd still be fucking alive. I've only met him once, but guy fucking hunted giant ass bears. No way he'd lose to cancer.

"I just... I just wish I COULD talk about it when it does bother me. I wish I could sort myself out when I AM fucking pissed off about. Which is not alot anymore. I'm pretty damn happy, but when shit like this happens and I start to crumble a little... I dunno. Maybe I just don't want to be weak anymore. Don't want to depend on anyone. I wish I could talk again. But I guess strength has it's problems. Well whatever. I'm done."

He's not given a chance to answer. She's already walking away, bare feet and all.