Between My Fingers
Do you remember when you first held my hand? Now all you’ll ever be is the empty spaces between my fingers.
I’ve been distraught with noone to reach out to. Don’t tell me I have friends during those moments.
In the past 6 months I’ve been: Crying as often as a six year old Friendless as a 16 year old Feeling as bleak as a 60 year old Miserable as only I know how to be
In the next 6 months I will be happy or dead. I can’t be this unhappy and retain any optimism for the future. Substances don’t feel anything when the chemistry experiment fails, so I’m not going to toil any more at this life experiment just to die a few years later.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
It’s a good thing I didn’t have this earlier tonight when I was walking around feeling sorry for myself. I was caught in one of those NYC moments where you just want to curl up alone but find yourself a long subway ride away from anything resembling solitude. I might have curled up somewhere on a bench and really let loose with the tears. Ironically, the thought of the 30 minute journey simultaneously added to my sadness and kept me moving forward. Everywhere I turned around there was another pair of eyes, and all I had to do was make it home.
Play count: 0
uh oh.
Plotting room decorations for next year. This might get dangerous.
Getting It Right
You’re not the only amazing person to love me; you’re the one who got it right.
Listening to sad tunes in the wee hours before an early work day, dreaming of better times. Not so thirsty thursday after all.
I’ve actually forgotten why I want to be on a zipline so badly, but it is definitely my heart’s desire.
One Happy Thought
I started a twitter to be witty and hip and gradually devolved into whining and snark.
I promised to check facebook feeds less and generate profile info more and I don’t even remember the last time something happened directly to me.
I bought a beautiful journal to record travel thoughts and gradually stopped writing anything happy going on in my life.
and I started this blog to explore what I like about myself, and gradually began to dump all of my contorted feelings into it.
I can’t repair the damage to all of these things. But on a night like tonight when I got caught in the rain with no shoes, and I avoided a prime networking opportunity out of social anxiety, and I’m just incredibly tired after doing nothing all day, and all the dessert places are closed, I have to give myself one happy thought. One unqualified positive statement.
I still laugh, I still sleep, and I know I’ll be able to love someone else someday.
