It's not as simple as voices in your ear. This is just something you know. It's knowledge that is laid in your foundation, that blankets years. Bits and pieces of it leach out of everything you do. It's illustrated in detail by the consequences of everything you've survived: you're just not good enough for some things and this is a truth that cannot be outrun no matter how hard you try.
(damaged is not the word. It implies possibility for repair. There isn't. Fucked up is what you are. A fraction, not a person. Been one for so long that you just don't know the fucking difference. Just stop! Stop trying!)
Also true: you're in pieces and the way you think about things is wrong and you shouldn't even be allowed to hold on to people because you're jagged glass: you hurt them. You keep them close because you're selfish, you need people to love you, to think you're better so you have a reason to believe it yourself, but it's not true and you just keep hurting people. Good people, who don't deserve your bullshit.
True: You will never get past this. Never! Accept it. This will never be fixed or be over. You'll never be better, no matter what changes. No matter how you life shifts.
…No matter who you're with or how much you love.
Loved…
Knowledge like this – facing it, finally, without doubt or second chances, without false illusions - is what makes everything else into a farce: people play along to you trying to be better, but there is no such thing. You've always known this, deep in the silent places where you can't lie to yourself (in the places where your every hope goes to die). You've always known that everyone is just playing along. Just like you've always known that one day they'll just stop.
(She has. Several times. Leaving you in the dust trying to catch up and not knowing how.)
Everyone has their breaking point after all. It just hurts to be the place they all break against.
This is undoubtedly your fault though. You know that too. And not just because you lied.
It's because you promised a life you couldn't give - a promise made by someone who isn't you. Not the real you. The real lie wasn't even about your son. It extends longer than just a mere few months, it goes deeper: you made her think you were someone you aren't. You even believed it yourself, you were so desperate. You tried so hard to build someone worth loving but that's just a façade. A house of cards. It only took one blow of the wind to knock it over.
Of course it would end. She didn't know who she was saying yes to. She was the first person to dare call you a hero, and maybe it would have been true, from arms length, with five feet of distance and no touching between you, but for a desperate hug every now and then. But up close and personal… 'the two of us' you tried to build together never stood a chance, because she doesn't know that she was sleeping every night with a figment of both your imaginations. In truth you are who you've always been: a sack of dark oozing shit in an expensive suit.[1] The shade of it doesn't matter. Doesn't change the inside of you.
Learn this. Accept it.
Be at peace with it.
Truth: You were never meant for more.
[1] Jessica Jones, Ep. 13: Smile