It was hard - my life and this situation too , and I understood that. I knew that. Yet I couldn't give up. I couldn't sit back and see people upset. I couldn't watch people walk by them and not ask what was wrong or what they could do to help. It made this fire-like ball build up in my chest , making me furious. It wouldn't go till I asked. Till I gave in. Till I put the effort in. Because I was really the only one willing too and no matter how unfair that was , I had to believe there was reasoning out there. That maybe someday , someone would do the same for me. My mum laughs at me for thinking so. Says I dream too much , but I leave her negativity in the room behind me.
Yet I find myself rolling my eyes at the thought of love too.
I don't think I'm ever going to find LOVE.
Or it'll be an unfamiliar kind.
Unexpected and different.
Dark and twisted.
Not the type you find in books or movies.
Not the "Casey and izzie " type.
Not the " juliette and Warner" type.
Maybe it was the tragic Romeo and juliette I'd find myself in.
Maybe it would be one sided and I'd end up putting in far too much once again.
You know , that seems like a me thing to do.
My breathing shallowed.
My heart rate quickened.
Tremors flurried through my body.
Heat flushed through me.
My legs tingled.
My feet were going numb.
My eyes were welling up.
My teeth were chattering.
Panic.
Panic that I was unworthy and foolish and stupid and messed up and broken and lonely and unloved and stuck.