rude bitch…

What exactly is happiness?  I am sure I know the meaning of the word and I am sure that I have felt and recognized the wonderful feeling of happiness.  I think maintaining that feeling has become a tough thing as of late.  What happens when all aspects of your life are happy except one or two components?  Can you so easily rid those few components out of your life altogether?  It can be even more confusing if there are a few small things that make you slightly happy from time to time when you are associated with those pain in the ass things that are veering your happiness right off of a cliff.  People often say that you are always looking for something in life, whether big or small, I’m just looking for a calm, meaningful existence, preferably without all of this bullshit that suddenly seems to have attached itself to my life.  I hadn’t felt such a deep dark mood in a very long time but I have spent the last three to four days primarily in bed.  I am unhappy with my living situation, I despise it most of the time.  He knows this and quite frankly doesn’t seem to care.  If I mention possibly getting a place of our own, forget it, he either doesn’t answer, or he becomes a giant asshole.  Just as he has been during these last days of my depression.  I feel as though I shouldn’t have to reach out and ask for help, this should just be a natural instinct or action because you love the person you are with.  I would like to believe that I am very good at supporting him when he needs attention or a little bit of extra care, which I think happens more often than not.  But heaven forbid it’s me who needs that little bit of extra care, or just simply care at all, this means I have an attitude and I am being a rude bitch.  I think what it really boils down to is that he can’t have his precious little “life bubble” popped or be asked to spend anytime away from loving and worrying about himself.  It is not in his vocabulary or life experience to actually put forth the effort to care for someone other than himself and because of that, I am the rude bitch, never him.  I am the one who has put up with so much bullshit to help him, be there for him, and give him the everlasting attention his pretty little self needs.  Here I am left alone, not cared for, and feeling extremely unimportant to someone that I should be the opposite of all of those things to.  Alas, it is not him that is the problem, it is me, the rude bitch.


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