why me? why this now? why this way?

Its supposed to be therapeutic to write it out. So I type the words on the screen and find some comfort in the familiarity. I guess it is never going to be as easy as it seems. The waves.. the ever present waves. I wander out to the mid waist, and wait for the current to pull me under. I don't know if I would fight for breath... I don't know that I could. My wondering will be the end of me - my curiosity. My inability to start a new chapter.. always revisiting the last one in order to try and gain a clearer understanding of -what-went-wrong- I will never understand why you couldn't love me like I loved you. I will never know what happened to my sense. I will not find an answer to how I ever let the outcome of my sanity lay rest in your care. I will spend the rest of my life building back the castle you tore down. I won't ever know how that can be compared to the position of my cunt. Move on, let it rest, let it be - I tell myself. But then I look down at this beautiful life that encompasses my whole being and I see you. It's a constant reminder of what could have been. They tell me "he looks like him" and I say... he looks like himself. Because if you think I don't know, you're a fool. The biology of the lives I have single-handedly brought this far, always thrown at me like its a fault. Like somehow, it changes the purity of who they are. Like my demons speak for their destiny. It's a story as common as a penny. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQyF-bazxQU