in the life of luke.

11/13/18

11/13/18-
Jealousy prickling up my spine. The green envy monster. I know he's loved. Well loved. But I can't help it. The thought of him with someone besides me. The thought of someone flirting with him. I cannot fathom why anyone would wish us the worst. Are people filled with that much hate? With the desire to destroy all things beautiful? In a room full of idiots, children who have not yet matured. My mind racing. Does anyone here have the same thoughts as me? I doubt have of half are capable to go beyond the conversations of "hey. wyd hru?" [1:05 pm]

[6:03 pm]
I wish I could be me. Openly. Confidently. I wish my mother saw my struggle. My struggle to take down food when it needs to. Not just when it wants. The constant battle with my stomach. Damn you. I wish I had a good body. Not that I don't. I just hate it, for me. It's not for me. I get that cis males, some, have curves too. But I don't want mine. Don't want a hourglass figure. Don't want hips that protrude and cause me to not fit into jeans. Don't want a bottom that continues to grow and cause my mother to laugh at me when I've grown out of another pair of pants. I'd do anything to have a cis male body. Do anything to be a cis male. People promise me I'm beautiful. Gorgeous. I don't wanna be those things. I don't want to put on makeup to remain the girl figure my mother sees me as. I wanna be handsome. Masculine. He promises me I'm handsome. Promises I'm cute. So fucking cute. Promises he loves me, and through everything we will be okay. But he doesn't get it.  Doesn't get I will never believe he loves me. Or that anyone loves me. Perhaps love is a lie. He doesn't get that no matter how many compliments he gives me, I will continue to want to rip off my skin. This isn't me. I don't belong here. Not in this body. Doesn't get that I will never love myself the way he loves me. I want to. Truly I do. I'd do anything to see myself the way he sees me. A perfect, yet not, angel in his eyes. A true gem. I swear I'm not any of those things. So very far away from those things. I've strayed away from all I've known. I'm me. I'm Luke. Can't my mother see that? See her little girl is so very far gone? That there is indeed a boy here, in these eyes, so very yearning to be himself. To be loved as him. Who so desperately wants to be accepted. That wants to scream and shout he's Luke. Scratching to escape and be him. Can't she see any of that? I doubt it. Her eyes linger elsewhere. Not here. Physically she's here, but not mentally. I don't know when we lost her. It's probably been a while. Long gone by now. So close, yet so very far. Is there any chance of saving her now? Would her father coming back into her life save her? That little girl who was molested and stood out, stood away from home. Got with my father at 14, had me at 15. Did she crave that male attention, the one her father should've; would've given her? Does she crave it like me? The feeling to be loved? I don't know if my mom has ever loved. Did she once upon love me? Love my father? Love her mother? She swears she's always been a bitch. Her mom. My grandma. She says she hates her. I know my grandmother has fucked up a lot. She had a rough childhood. Maybe it's like when you throw a rock into water. The water ripples, from that one stone. Is it like that? My grandmother being molested. Her allowing it to happen to her daughters, just as it was allowed to happen to her. Then it happening to me. All because of that one stone, that one event. But then again, my mom wouldn't have allowed it if she lived with me at the time. She lived on the streets at the time. I was staying with her mom, my grandmother and her husband. The first man to take advantage of my trust and molest me. I went to my grandmother after a few times of it happening. She told me not to tell my mom. Not to make her stress because she was pregnant. Yet she allowed her daughter to live on the streets till my mom's boyfriend found a house? She picked a man, her husband over my mom. Her own daughter. I don't get that. But I won't allow that to happen. Won't let my daughter get molested. I will give her all the love I have to offer. I will let her know she is accepted for whoever she is. Whoever she chooses to be. I don't think I could even have it in my heart to hate someone. Hate is so so strong. I merely dislike some. Some more than others. But no hate. I couldn't. Not even to the men who touched me. I don't think I should just dislike them. Should hate them with a passion. But maybe, just maybe, that was supposed to happen to me. Maybe it's what I deserved. Who knows? God? Is there a god? Heaven and hell? I don't believe so. Even if there is a god, I have left him. Strayed very far, no way back to my heavenly father. Am I condemned to Hell, if there is one?