I come home to find my mailbox outside my door, helpfully stuffed with mail (by my upstairs neighbor) because my across the way neighbor is warring with my landlord and has told us that the mailbox post is rotted and therefore we have to get rid of our old mailbox and dig our own damn post. Giant spider in the bathroom. Still gotta get rid of that ridiculous “speeding” ticket.
Missing the sanity of California, the niceness of it and yeah that someone I left behind. Wishing I didn’t miss him or that I didn’t want him so badly to want me more so much because I know I’m gonna end up hurt.
Life, what of it?
It’s amazing how beautiful life can be, even when nothing is happening, especially because nothing is happening. I can’t appreciate enough how good life is just because I’m lying in my own bed, with money in the bank, all my bills paid, cherries in a bowl, 2 ACLs, a roof over my head, candle lit, gadgets and books littered around me. My worries, if not trivial, are, at least, not urgent. My family’s condition is stable. My love life is settled, at least for the moment. And my job? My job is awesome.
it’s not that my life is perfect (so far from it). In this singular moment though, I am unbelievably content with my lot.
Peace. Quiet. Security. Not to be overrated.
Source: SoundCloud / JessieWare
You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world … but you do have some say in who hurts you.
Am a sobbing mess from watching The Fault In Our Stars
The worst moment in all of this was the realization that I was waiting, waiting for you to recognize me, waiting for you to want me, waiting for you to be with me and realizing. All these moments that I wanted to share with you, all these pieces of me, I felt them crumbling into my loneliness. That I wanted to share myself with you - yes. That you reciprocated the identical feeling of loneliness of experiencing and wishing you had someone to share it with; no, I wasn’t the person you were thinking of. How brutally crushing is the small comfort you give to yourself as someone with unrequited feelings. Standing alone in the kitchen. Willing myself to be ok and not give a damn.
It cheapens everything to hear you lie and say, “I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You knew. You stood by and let me pine. You let me hurt and I let it hurt me.
The truth of the matter is that yes, I can’t stop someone from loving me, but I can stop you from hurting me. Had you even evinced a similar level of interest in me, a genuine desire to want to know me, be present with me and do anything more than have me satisfy your ego, this story would have ended differently. As it is, we both have regrets but at least I know I came out with my heart intact. For better or worse, my heart is at its limit. It’s pre-occupied with far more pressing conflicts and another serious heartbreak is not something it can handle.
Your inability to commit or tell the truth, to not hurt me, to not be trustworthy is the genuine impediment to what we had. Nothing you’ve done since has convinced me otherwise because you can’t charm everyone. You can’t charm me into hurting myself. And I think, ultimately that with the turning of the universe, if there is something to built out of this, it will come when you realize that you are the only impediment to your happiness.