Again

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I think she’s freaking out again.

Freaking out how?

Words I wasn’t meant to see. Words that cut through my heart. Words that stabbed me over and over and over and still do sometimes, like tonight. Words that were spoken over six months ago but that reverberate all throughout me at the most inconvenient times, like tonight. Words that break my heart into a thousand tiny pieces when I think about them.

 

I think she’s freaking out again.

Freaking out how?

I didn’t freak out. I’ve been through a lot. Things that would’ve landed most people in a mental institution or worse. I try so hard to keep it together, I spend fifty minutes once a week on a couch saying the same shit to the same woman for crying out loud. I’m trying.

 

I think she’s freaking out again.

Freaking out how?

My problem is that I don’t have a lot of trust in me. Trust. Such a fragile thing, such a scary thing to give away. I could freely give away any and everything else I own, every little possession, the clothes off my back, the money in my bank, but my heart and soul?? I save that for my blank books, my journals, strangers who read my words…

 

I think she’s freaking out again.

Freaking out how?

Sometimes this life is so hard. I try my best to make it through my days with positive thoughts, or thoughts positive enough. I try to keep at bay that darkness that lives deep within my every fiber, the darkness that’s always threatening to take over and change me completely. I try to remind myself of the truths. I try so hard to be a good person, a kind person, a loving and gentle person. A normal person. But damn, sometimes its so damn hard.

I think she’s freaking out again.

Freaking out how? 

 

Can you blame me for having a hard time with relationships and friendships? I’ve been screwed over a lot in the past, really torn apart, and I carry those scars with me, sometimes I dig at them and tear them wide open again so they can bleed. So I’ll never forget. So I don’t find myself in the same situation ever again. Sometimes just because I miss the pain.

 

I think she’s freaking out again.

But hey, it could be worse right? At least I’m the type that withdraws instead of lashes out. At least I’m the type that cries in private, late at night when everyone else is asleep, I cry it out, or try to at least so I don’t hurt anyone else with my pain. At least I’m not the type to retaliate against those that my mind wrongly accuses of hurting me. At least I only tear at my own scabs and not everyone else’s.

 

I think she’s freaking out again.

 

 

 

 

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4 thoughts on “Again

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