Midnight Illness #3

I hate myself so fucking much you don't even realize— I'm my biggest hater and I do everything to beat myself up— But also at the end of the day when it comes to you I refuse to believe that you're happy with me and even when I'm trying, I'm failing at it and it hurts more than anything because the person that I love the most suffers with me rather than enjoy the life with me— I hate how instead of making you feel better I somehow managed to make you're days even worse because of the mess that I have in my head. Instead of making sure you go to sleep happy I hold myself to not cry as I know that it will worry you. I should be there for you but I feel that even though I'm trying I'm somehow managing to make things worse— I hate myself so fucking much to the point that if I could beat myself I would with no doubt; I'm talentless, passionless, hopeless and now also fucking jobless can't get any worse that this— Or can it?