That's why I'm writing this. Now where to begin.
What you see before you is an emotional rebel of a trainwreck who doesn't like to take things seriously and wants to have fun in life. Somebody who aspires to explore, adventure, never grow up, and love, but somebody who is hindered by over-sensitivity and emotional disorders that pour from her ears. I'd love to chase tornadoes and explore abandoned buildings. And in my ridiculous daydreams, I fantasize about a person standing at my side through all of it.
But I wake up.
I'm guilty of letting people walk all over me. Even my loved ones. Especially my loved ones. I let them punch me, beat me, kick me, and otherwise emotionally bash the royal goddamn hell out of me, and I always pick myself up, even if I've been battered within an inch of my life, smile, and forgive. Anything to make them happy. God forbid I become angry. I become angry, and people either accuse me of heartlessness or they think I hate them. So I bottle it. I bottle it and my depression and release it when it becomes necessary.
I'm my own fault for my disorders. For my manic depression, my inattentiveness, and my rare suicidal episodes that fortunately never go anywhere except sedating me to sleep. I used to sleep 13 hours at a time just to keep people from knowing I was in shambles. I run. I hide. Nobody needs to know. I'm strong. I'm tough. I can handle it.
But I can't. I'm the world's greatest actor. Put on the makeup. Put on the costume. Smile and pretend to be another happy life of society.
Goddamn it. It's not me.
When a loved one around me crumbles, so do I. I'm no help at all. All I can do is offer an ear to listen with, a shoulder to cry on, and open arms to fall into. But what happens when it just isn't enough? It hardly ever is, and then my goddamn sensitivity creeps up on me, and I wind up crying too. What the hell. How helpful am I.
When a loved one gets angry, I become scared and shy. I don't like anger. If anybody so much as raises their voice at me, I become the proverbial dog with its tail tucked between its legs. I run off and I hide, because I'm so fucking skittish and scared. I know I should be a voice of reason, but what use is a cowardly voice?
And what happens when no matter what you do, your love just doesn't feel like enough? You give everything you've got, and it's either too much or too little. You're either smothering or distant. What happens when you love the hell out of somebody, but it always winds up stand-offish? When you end a conversation abruptly and slam yourself into a pillow and cry until you run out of tears and out of breath? When you have visionary dreams of your lover glaring at you and walking away, never to bother with you again?
What do you do when you see them, but yet you want to run away and never come back because you're so afraid you'll upset them again?
What do you do when neither of you seem like you can control the emotions? When the love is there but the emotions are too high?
When you don't want to let go... you hold on tighter... so tight that your nails dig into your palms and you make yourself bleed?
When you don't want to let go because it'll all be better soon...
When you won't let go because you still daydream about that wonderful future looming somewhere out there in the distance?
When answering the questions doesn't help because you're only half of the equation.
When answering the questions is a scary thought because you may not like the answers you give yourself.
When answering is horrifying because you may feel one way and the other may not.
...
Tomorrow I'll get up and go to school. I'll take my notes and sit in my lectures, and through the glasses upon my face, I'll look just fine.
But the thoughts in my head and the drawings on my sketchpad will always tell the truth.
To quote the song I've been listening to for an hour:
There's many things I wish I didn't do
But I can't take you hurting
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go...
That I just want you to know
I found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
The reason to start over new
And the reason is you."
~"The Reason" by Hoobastank
If you love them, let them go. If they come back, it was always meant to be. If they do not, then continue down the road alone.
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