Vent Sessions.

“Talk to me please, don’t have much to believe in
I need you right now, are you down to listen to me?….
I been talkin’ crazy, I’m lucky that you picked up.
I’m lucky that you stayed on.
I need someone to put this weight on.
Fuck.  I’m sorry.”

I’m cracking.  My back is breaking along with my facade.  I don’t know how much more I can take.   My faith is waning, I don’t know who I am.  I have to actively tell yourself to simply breathe.  I swear to gah, if one more thing happens…. if he calls me a bitch one more time…. if she flakes on me just one more time…. if you call my phone just one more time… if I have to say I’m ok just ONE. MORE. TIME…..  

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

My face is hot.  The words are coming out of my mouth as fast as my tears do out of my eyes.   I don’t even know what I’m saying.   My chest is beating, my mind is blank but yet here I am… yelling.  You don’t understand.  You never will.  But you’re trying to and I see that.  So why am I still yelling at you?  I let this shit get the best of me one more time.   I can’t let this shit happen, not even one more time.   And maybe this’ll be the last time, no more times.  

People aren’t punching bags.  

I know this.  And I’m sorry.  But if you’d just listen to me one more time…If you could make me laugh one more time… if you could just hug me one more time…. if you could just excuse me one more time… if you could just be here for me ONE. MORE. TIME.

I’m only going to ask you one more time. 

Please.

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