☼ Find Me, Fix Me

Please don't comment.

Or ask me how I am. If you do, I don't know how I would be able to forgive you.

I want to be proud of the people in my family, and I am. But my family is never proud of me.

When I try to draw the people that are closest to me close, after I deliberately push them away, their words cut so sharp and deep into my heart. I feel so misunderstood and my good intentions come off as criticism.

I really care for my family members. But at times, I feel that they don't especially care for me.

He doesn't know that I've always been thinking if the way my thinking is correct. He probably just thinks that I always think that I, myself, am correct. It's really not true, I'm so full of ambiguities and doubts and second guesses that it hurts my brain and it hurts my heart. I rip myself internally into shreds. What a bloody fking mess.

I think I'm on the road to self-destruction. I've created the perfect pathway to it.

I've aways been falling endlessy...this time, the only difference is that I'm reaching out toward the bottom.

Too insecure to tell anyone. Maybe too prideful and shameful as well. How odd..? That I can feel pride and shame at the same time.

I see on their faces that my face and my words are not pleasing to their eyes and ears. The mere thought of me is probably like something acrid and sour.

The more I think of it, the more I despair, but I guess it's only fair since I did this to myself.

I thought I could protect them, and in turn, protect myself. But it isn't so. In the end it isn't so.

Maybe "good bye" is just an instance of time that isn't worth saving yourself from pain from. Maybe the relationships that you make along the way are really worth the hurtful goodbyes in the end.

I can't exactly travel back in time. I can only live with my regrets. Some things are truly unattainable, no matter how much you wish, how much you long for it.

I've messed up. Royally screwed myself over. Now I'm turning in the mstakes that I've made, writhing in them to find some sort of escape. Some sort of closure, perhaps. Or perhaps, a breath of air so I can breathe.

I don't really know what's going on in my mind now.

I've always been rather fast paced. But at times too slow..

Yet I've always been a runner. I feel like I am running through the rest of life...Running to catch up...running away...

Maybe it's so that I can feel the rush of adrenaline so that I know that I am alive. Maybe it's so that I can feel the blood pumping through my veins, feel the beating of my heart so that I know that I am still breathing, no matter how numb I feel.

The internal feelings that I'm feeling right now....so familiar, yet still unnamed. Maybe all of these problems occur simply because I do not know how to convey my feelings...how to express myself. How to communicate to others without using double or hidden meanings.

And yet...

Perhaps I brought this onto myself unconsciously, deliberately. To feel these horrible emotions....because maybe inside, if I were to admit it...a part of me enjoys feeling this pain. Masochistic, but perhaps it's the only way I know how to survive. Or maybe at least know that I am living. Because if I stop moving, maybe my blood will stop flowing...and maybe my bleeding heart will finally turn back into stone.