I stopped sleeping with my closet light on when I realized that you were not going to get me in the night. But you were going to kill me when you left. Now I sleep with the window open and the lights off hoping you will put me out of my misery.

Misery makes it difficult to breathe, likewhen it is so hot outside, it does not even feel like you are really breathing. So you try to breathe easier, softer, and lighter, until it feels like you are suffocating. Misery does something terrible to me other than not being able to breathe.

Misery brings me to realization that I am expendable. I must be expendable, designed to be used only once and then abandoned or destroyed. I guess I have only ever given myself to be abandoned or destroyed. Mostly destroyed. I have never healed fully, no one ever taught me to heal before I went chasing destructive things, such as you.

If you have ever sat in a hot steamed room, and tried to breathe deeply in. You cannot. It hurts too much, it feels like misery. It is a burning sensation in the lungs, as if you have swallowed poison and filled them. I am an expendable human being, that is how I was designed. I was designed for a special person, someone that can only handle me for a specific amount of time. I am put high on the shelf, picked off for someone special. Then given to someone to use until they are bored, and then dropped.

Almost as if I was meant for everyone at a different time. That must be why I can meet so many people and find something in them that makes me want to be around them. I was made for them in that specific time. People are just waiting to pull me off the edge and put me into misery. Use all of me, until I can no longer breathe. I guess being an expendable person, I must understand that my misery cannot follow. I must be aware that just because I am expendable, does not mean I am miserable.

But when I am miserable that does not mean that I am done. Just because you got bored, does not mean someone else will. It rather startles me when someone drops me or loses interest. I am not the type of person people get bored of. I have worked on that so hard, that it is almost a routine.

That is when and where my misery follows, when I am dropped because I could not be what you needed. But I must remind myself that I am a expendable person. That I am designed to be used once and then abandoned. That it is okay and I have to accept this. But I have not learned how to outlive this misery, it sleeps deep inside me waiting. Waiting for you to come in the night, and crawl into my bed, and end it.