Some kind of apology.
I think it's easier for me to write in here than my actual journal, because it feels less real. When I actually write things out in permanent ink, it feels more set in stone.
I don't like to admit who I am or where I'm at, because I feel a lot more lost than I want to let anyone know. I want to think that I give life, God, the benefit of the doubt. But I don't.
I've been talking to friend who I think is in a very similar place as I, in fact we probably helped each other down this path we're on. The words that some forth from my lips are so foreign to who I used to be. I still get confused when I hear them.
It's hard to admit that I have wasted so much of myself on a person who will never love me. All is not lost, though. I've learned some things, but are they things I wanted to learn? I am so sure that I do not want to be naive, that nothing disgusts me anymore. I want to be everyone, I want to know and taste everything.
I am a stranger to myself, and that is hard thing for me.
I am a stranger to you as well, because I have kept you all at an arm's(or longer) length. I think I rationalize my being so cold in thinking that you are better off, until I figure out who I am. You don't want to be in this mess I am in, and I won't take the chance of dragging you in after.
I don't like to admit who I am or where I'm at, because I feel a lot more lost than I want to let anyone know. I want to think that I give life, God, the benefit of the doubt. But I don't.
I've been talking to friend who I think is in a very similar place as I, in fact we probably helped each other down this path we're on. The words that some forth from my lips are so foreign to who I used to be. I still get confused when I hear them.
It's hard to admit that I have wasted so much of myself on a person who will never love me. All is not lost, though. I've learned some things, but are they things I wanted to learn? I am so sure that I do not want to be naive, that nothing disgusts me anymore. I want to be everyone, I want to know and taste everything.
I am a stranger to myself, and that is hard thing for me.
I am a stranger to you as well, because I have kept you all at an arm's(or longer) length. I think I rationalize my being so cold in thinking that you are better off, until I figure out who I am. You don't want to be in this mess I am in, and I won't take the chance of dragging you in after.