BMO won't bounce back

I don't know how to feel anymore. You know that audio, "BMO always bounces back."

I don't think I will this time. I never like saying that out loud. Or being that vulnerable, I guess. It just feels gross. Like I'm peeling away at myself and showing somebody else, telling them, "look at me! look at how fucked up I am!".

I don't want to show people my insides because they always end up dissecting them. I feel like a moulding orange. Maybe the skin looks nice, its orange and fresh and plump- and then you take it off and you wish you never did. Because it's juicy and falling apart and it stains your fingertips and you'll wish you'd had left it on the shelf. And it smells horrid and pungent and you can't ever get rid of the disgusting air around it.

But the worst part is, is that it'll never be fresh again. It's moulded, it's over. There is no redeeming it, there is no fucking salvation. You've been ruined and there's no repairing yourself. You can't put the skin back on. You can't wash off all that grime and bacteria. You're stuck with a mouldy orange. You are stuck with your mistakes.

And I guess sometimes I forget they were my choice. That I'm the one who ruined myself. No matter how many times I yell at somebody else that it was their fault, that it was their fault and not mine and I wish they'd just fuck off- I know I'm wrong. Because in the end, I decided. That I'm the fuck up. That I fucked it up. 

And there's nothing I can do to change that. I could say sorry, hell I could even fucking try to be better. But I won't, because there's no longer any point. I've crossed that line of decay, where I will forever be the nasty person I set out to be like. I will always be snarky. I will have always made you cry and I will have always smiled at you and walked off. I still would have been the person to yell at you and screamed at you and told you I never loved you just to make you cry.

Just because I wasn't as happy as you were, I tried to make you as miserable as me.

I will always be that self-made monster you still so frustratingly love no matter how fucking hard I try to get you to hate me. And I can't change that anymore.

I will always be the bad guy when it comes to love like ours.