Vulnerability. Something that I try hard not to show, something that I feel is better hidden from the world and only for myself. A weakness.
But then again, I am only human.
At first, we talked about it, carefree, or so it seemed, and I thought I could handle it. But I couldn't. I found myself having that same old feeling up in my chest, heavy, ready to explode, something that I try hard to evade, but in vain; I felt it all over again. And hated it. How I wish I could just disappear into thin air or just fly away from here.
I wrote about it. It's something you can't control, I suppose.
Maybe, I wanted you to read it. But I didn't know how. Maybe I didn't, because it's stupid and a waste of time. Maybe I did, I wanted you to know without me knowing you already knew. Confusing. Well, maybe, just maybe.
I do not know why, but I get the feeling that you and your scummy friends are talking about her, although I have no reason to believe so. Annexe and all. I still can't comprehend that need for you to say that, and now that I know you did, I now feel like I loathe you even more. Stay away from him and the both of them. Hurt her and you will regret it.
Yeah, I can be too conscious sometimes. Not good. I shouldn't be such a curious cat and ask things, personal things that might just kill me in the end. But even when I know it will, it's a risk I must take, so I ask anyway, be it I am left satisfied or not.
Sometimes you just wish you're alone, where no one can find you.
And so we turn four, or five, if you count that as well.
Happy four months.
But then again, I am only human.
At first, we talked about it, carefree, or so it seemed, and I thought I could handle it. But I couldn't. I found myself having that same old feeling up in my chest, heavy, ready to explode, something that I try hard to evade, but in vain; I felt it all over again. And hated it. How I wish I could just disappear into thin air or just fly away from here.
I wrote about it. It's something you can't control, I suppose.
Maybe, I wanted you to read it. But I didn't know how. Maybe I didn't, because it's stupid and a waste of time. Maybe I did, I wanted you to know without me knowing you already knew. Confusing. Well, maybe, just maybe.
I do not know why, but I get the feeling that you and your scummy friends are talking about her, although I have no reason to believe so. Annexe and all. I still can't comprehend that need for you to say that, and now that I know you did, I now feel like I loathe you even more. Stay away from him and the both of them. Hurt her and you will regret it.
Yeah, I can be too conscious sometimes. Not good. I shouldn't be such a curious cat and ask things, personal things that might just kill me in the end. But even when I know it will, it's a risk I must take, so I ask anyway, be it I am left satisfied or not.
Sometimes you just wish you're alone, where no one can find you.
And so we turn four, or five, if you count that as well.
Happy four months.
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