Guilt, it makes you act in ways you’re not accustomed to. Makes you say things you don’t necessarily mean or believe in order to find the balance in your head. Set things right, things that may be out of your control.
Perhaps I am guilty. Did I lie, no. But I wasn’t completely open from when I wanted change. Let things get out of hand in my head before acting accordingly to the only option I perceived to have left in my mind. My endless mind, forever there to come up with a thousand possible outcomes and scenarios and yet this only had one.
Emotionally lacking, perhaps. I would hate to think I lack the ability to feel deeply about someone but it’s a truth I’m now faced with. I can only lie to myself so much before I see that my lies to myself don’t affect how you feel and that your feelings can develop without me.
Therefore my choices are already limited. Let you go deeper, drown whilst I stay a float, complacent. Or drown with you but in guilt, a deep sense of responsibility for your emotions weighing on me.
I need to clarify my actions throughout weren’t led by guilt driven thoughts, I didn’t paint for the first time in years as I felt it would makes up for the fact I wasn’t as deeply in like as I wanted to be. I genuinely wanted to be enamored by you, but this has happened before. Doesn’t end well. The longer I leave it the more my lack of affection becomes apparent and the ever present resentment becomes more apparent. No explanation needed for the resentment to the privilege I’ve grown up around, surrounded by family that love me deeper than I can fathom to love anybody.
I never notice how skeptical of love I was until recently, something I’ve always wanted yet not sure I even believe it exists.
Loneliness and Solitude, very different yet seem to come hand in hand.
Lately I’ve been feeling lonely, surrounded by people who love and care for me. Yet still lonely. Again, present but not really here.
Perhaps depression really is contagious, an air borne disease of the mind set to consume us as a generation before anything else can.
But who’s to say I’m depressed when I’m not really sad just isolated, isolated within the boundaries of my thoughts. My inability to express myself crippling me.
Comments like “don’t overthink” do nothing but frustrate me further, if it was that easy would it not have already been done?
Unfinished but enough for now.
I’m over thinking again, as I always do.
My attempt to open up and express my feelings always end in contradicting babble. No conclusions, more confusion.
Yet here I am attempting it again, putting myself back through a process I never liked.
Thoughts of opening up run back and forth causing a heavy fog over my thoughts limiting how coherent I am.
The constant judgement and possible conclusions cross my mind, some of them true others not, yet I shy away from your reaction to my thoughts fearful of rejection. There’s no point.
The conclusion, I’m damaged and that’s not good enough right now.
More problems, less solutions. The only outcomes of overthinking.
I once read that the mind causes its own problems so it could solve them. Something along those lines anyway and perhaps it’s true. Little things that could be let go, minor moments that didn’t feel right but could be discarded, held.
I have a confession, I overheard something I didn’t like. Might have been a joke, might have been serious, probably misheard. Yet it brought about so many questions in my mind. Questions that I am sure you could see displayed on my face, yet ignored. Not the time or place? Perhaps.
Too soon for those kinds of conversations? Prematurely over stepping my boundaries?
Jealous? Yes. Irrational? No,
So I’ll keep quiet, play what feels like a game, wait for you to address the moment. Let it result in a thousand more questions that are forced to stay bound within the borders of my mind.
Unoriginal. Dull. Cliché.
So many words used to describe the same thing. A moment of boredom, a millisecond of ineffectiveness, a flash of uselessness. Not really useless, but nothingness, doing nothing. Yet we allow those words to be our selection when describing our life.
Seconds pass quicker than we can count whilst multitasking yet we find the need to complain when we have a moment to ourselves. We become “bored”. Seconds all counting down to the last second. So final, yet unacknowledged whilst constantly acknowledged simultaneously.
Bored. A moment to appreciate life, forever unnoticed. We feel the need to be constantly busy. Can we not enjoy the precious moments of nothing but life?
Perhaps it’s my time to sit back and do “nothing”.
Nothing but enjoy the feel of your arms around me, the sound of your heavy breathing, the beat of your heart against my back. Nothing but live my life not completing mundane tasks that are now considered necessary to have a successful day.
Nothing but everything that makes my day complete.
Am I going to be forced to deal with the hands I’m dealt? Or am I the dealer and the player, choosing to live with the choices that I have made and continue to make?
So caught up in the thoughts of others that my own thoughts of myself become insignificant. From self assured to self loathing, in a matter of months. Self esteem shattered through the action of others.
When did I lose myself in the thoughts of others?
A year has passed, much like the last
Somethings missing, a piece of me
Guidance without words, a facial expression, a gesture
Now only to be imagined.
A year has passed, much like the last but different.