i’m looking for baggage that goes with mine

August 23, 2013

There are certain people in the world who can say things and they mean so much more than if someone else were to say them.


On the other hand those people tend to be able to hurt you more with the things they say or more often don’t say.


My heart hurts for so many reasons. i have decisions to make. i don’t want to make any of these decisions. i don’t want certain things to change. 


i know that is a pointless wish. Things change. Life is one big constant change. i am ever-changing so i can’t expect other people not to be. And while there are some people who i wish more than anything to change there are others who i want to stay the way they are so i can maintain the relationship i have with them in that moment when it feels right. 


And the thing is, i know that one of the best things about any relationship is how it changes and grows. It’s just that sometimes i feel like it grows faster than i do and i get left behind. 


Had a bit of a flash from my past today. It made me wonder what is wrong with me that some people come into my life and i think they are perfect (not literally, but you know) and things go horribly wrong. i do everything i can to fix things and these people just turn out to be not good people. i’m trying not to exagerate- i have multiple sources backing me up in the fact that these were really sort of shitty people. But i worked so hard to hold onto that relationship and make everything better because i thought that if i could just change something about me that things would be all better. And, of course, they weren’t and those people ended up out of my life. But then i see them or hear about them later on down the road and they seem to be different people and i wonder why they couldn’t be that with me. What did i do wrong that made them treat me like that and what didn’t i do that made it get better.


i know, and i’m grateful that these people aren’t in my life. i really am. But at the same time when i see them looking happy i feel a slight twinge of why isn’t that me? What is so wrong with me that i am still sitting here alone?


Honestly if i were anyone out there i probably wouldn’t want to come near me either. i’m fucked up. i know, i know. . . we’re all fucked up. But apparently i am more so and i wear it like a tattoo on my forehead. 

It’s hard to balance wanting to disappear and be alone with being so damn lonely. They aren’t conflicting desires. They sit alongside each other peacefully both tugging at my heart and brain equally.


Oh writing, you leave me tangled.



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