(no subject)
I'm glad to be home. Sort of.
Today was the third or fourth hardest time I've ever had getting on an airplane, and the second time I've spent an entire flight crying (although in the opposite directions and for completely different reasons).
I feel pretty secure in the fact that the people I truly care about know that I care about them. Maybe they don't know quite the extent of my caring, but they know it's there. I think I said it about a year ago, but it's still true: I care more about you than you do about me. It's fact. I'm okay with it.
The amount of compassion I have for the people around me is sometimes overwhelming. And it's funny, because people think I'm insensitive. Hah.
And it's funny, because I'm feeling pretty proud of myself for being who I am.
And it's funny, because this is how much a work of fiction can affect me. Perhaps it's all related.
I don't think I'm getting across the point I was trying to make, whatever that was.
Today was the third or fourth hardest time I've ever had getting on an airplane, and the second time I've spent an entire flight crying (although in the opposite directions and for completely different reasons).
I feel pretty secure in the fact that the people I truly care about know that I care about them. Maybe they don't know quite the extent of my caring, but they know it's there. I think I said it about a year ago, but it's still true: I care more about you than you do about me. It's fact. I'm okay with it.
The amount of compassion I have for the people around me is sometimes overwhelming. And it's funny, because people think I'm insensitive. Hah.
And it's funny, because I'm feeling pretty proud of myself for being who I am.
And it's funny, because this is how much a work of fiction can affect me. Perhaps it's all related.
I don't think I'm getting across the point I was trying to make, whatever that was.