A Sheep Among Shepherds

After several hours of talking to the cat last night, it occurred to me that he is the only thing keeping me here... from following through with the drastic impulse to end this pathetic existence. It's the unknown that keeps me here and beckons the needed strength to press on... what would happen to him if I passed away? Who would look after him and give him the love he deserves... yes, I am capable of expressing love. At least what my limited understanding of what love is and how it works... it's the feeling of love from others that escapes me. Any positive feeling actually... those fuzzy forest creatures of fairy tales and rose petal kisses. I told my therapist today, that I lay in bed at night repeatedly begging God to kill me... then there would be no guilt, it wouldn't be my fault if no one cared for the cat. Wishful thinking... it would always be my fault, just as it has been for so long. How pathetic is that... living for a cat? Not a dream or purpose, nor friends or family... but a cat, just a cat. Tomorrow is my birthday, bring to a close a year since my would-be 10th anniversary of my death...after I full year I still feel cheated and in utter disarray. If you remember, a year ago I spoke about how I used to tell people I'd never see my 25th birthday... I worked very, very hard to see that come to fruition. Ultimately failing in the end... no surprise there, failure is the prize winning goose of my life. At any rate, last year I turned 35... thus marking 10 years ago that I should have been rotting in the earth. Instead, I rot above ground... still a sizable feast for the vermin and turning worms. A year has passed and I've yet to come to terms about still being alive... that's fucked up, really. I suppose most would be grateful and extremely appreciative to wake and walk upon the earth... pleading with their maker for another day to laugh, love, and remember. I know, poor fucking me... so pathetic, tired, and worthless. It's fucking hard living an empty life of regret and remorse... feeling nothing but hatred from everyone that surrounds me. My reflection is as hollow as the words shuffling off the people's mouths as they harken their love and compassion for this empty vessel... in the end, it just words. Meaningless, dirty, hollow words. It's the empty plate among the fatted feast... how would you feel if it were you sitting here? Could you? Can I? Why?