Being All Alone

I have spent a good weekend with my beloved. He has taken my hand and moved me through this weakness of mine to try and live life. Something I dare say, I suck at. Ha, yea well when you never really learn how and yet continue to plague the planet with your essence someone needs to teach ya. You also have to be willing to learn, which when you hate life...um yeah. Sigh, But I try for him. Because he loves me. I want to make sure he has a life set up for him so that I won't have to infect his life much longer. I know I do, he doesn't just it because  of course he loves me. I have no doubts. I'm just not good for any one. And in this thought I feel very, well alone. In my thoughts, dreams, ideas, life. It's because I feel so different, so off. Like I don't belong anywhere. That I was a mistake. And the world keeps trying to make up for it. If I'm not around how can I be vex anything beautiful again? I can't. Maybe my soul will cycle through and become something better. Or become the grimy slime I am. Yes well, I suppose my words make you feel better. She has a life of hell, of course everyone's is better. Who would care to be me. Hell someday will consume me for existing. I mean What kind of twisted person should be kept alive. I like the pain, the suffering. The bruises and brokenness. Not much ambition here is there?