No One, Exactly.

I've gotten to a point where I don't care any more. I think it's sad but then again I don't exactly care that I don't care. It's somewhat of a vicious cycle.

I don't care that someone who claims that I'm one of their closest friends, hasn't made an effort to talk to me or see me in a about month. I'll admit that it hurts a lot and that it makes me really upset but when it comes to caring about it? I just don't. I've stopped trying with him because that never seems to get me anywhere so I've become familiar with doing nothing and with being nothing to him any more. He must not need me any more. I can't cry about it and I won't try to fix because what's the point? 

I don't care about my body and what's healthy for me. I can eat myself into a coma on one day and then eat near to nothing for a week. I don't care that anorexia is an eating disorder and that it's not the best way to go about losing weight... I don't care what I put my body through. I don't care about the pain that I inflict on myself... It has become all too natural for me. Scars used to mark the times when I was deeply hurt or sad... Now? They mark boredom and restlessness... and an immense sense of frustration.

I don't care that I'm lonely or perpetually sad. I don't even notice it any more because I've somehow managed to let my life live itself and carry on mindlessly. I don't care that I don't believe in love for myself any more. I don't care that I despise what I used to want the most - a relationship. Now, I don't want to get married, I don't want to fall in love. I don't want to fall into the trap of giving most, if not all, of me to someone else. I don't care if people that love makes you happier. It can also break you. I'm a coward. I don't take risks. Besides, who would want me? No one, exactly. 

I care about people. Don't misunderstand. I just don't care about my life any more. At this moment. I'm hoping that it's a phase and that I'll grow up and out of it soon.

I hate that I don't recognise how much I've let myself slip by not caring. I hate my body, I hate who I've become... and the things I've done as a result of not fearing consequence. I hate that I'm not who I was a year and a half ago. I hate that I've become so negative and in a sense, existential. I hate my emotions... We used to be so in sync with one another and now we're just not on the same page.

I hate that I've wasted your time.

--J.