Bruised, tattered, worn, broken hearted and finished.

With the recent passing of a cystic I didn't even know, had never even spoke to, I'm fed up.  I'm done with it.  I sat my ass on my couch and cried for a good hour today just thinking about what a miserable disease this is.  I thought about how I don't mind my insides rotting...  *** *** *** ******, and all the rest of you who I care for so deeply...  I don't want your life to be wasted.  

I want you to be well.  I want you to be happy and care free.

In these wishes, I'm feeling the need to disassociate myself from the online community for a while.  It's just all too much.  I'm feeling like Cat Stevens.  My heart is too big and too open to let more sick and dying people in.  I have a hard enough time caring for myself at this point that somehow it seems useless to form more relationships with people that will leave me.

This is an absolutely insane conclusion, I know.  I know because I've had people leave me for the same reasons.  I'm not leaving anyone-- I'm just closing the option of adding more dead friends to the list.  

It's all too much.

From blue lips I say, I am not leaving you but I want you to live.

***Edited on Saturday, August 16th to remove name and web address.