I just told myself not to overanalyze, but I’ve been doing that since my birthday. Instead of asking real questions directly to the….subject, I’ve been picking myself apart and feeling worse.

Sometimes things are what they are. And they hurt…a lot.

I decided not to fall into the chaser habit of my early 20s, and just let flowers die.

I hate this feeling. But I hate opening up and getting crushed. Even though this is something I really, really found myself LIKING, things happened that made me feel like….nah. Might as well go in the hole, put Radiohead on repeat, and eat candy.

I think the result sorta jabbed me. Y’know, it was what it was, and it wasn’t a suckfest, but as usual, I kept quiet while fearing I would be too clingy, too emo, too awkward, too Veronica Rochelle.

I wrote poetry and waded in the sadfest pool. I’m tired of that. Everything doesn’t always work out as we want! Even the promising things. I don’t know why it hurt, but it did.

But I’m putting on my shoes. I’m walking whatever trail waits for me. I guess some days I’ll feel like crap, and others I’ll be on top of one of many worlds. Apathy, empowerment, who knows.

I don’t ask for the moon, just something genuine and good for my soul.

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