I love the young relationships we form. And chances are, these people we form these relationships with, will be with us, or will hold a place in us, forever. The relationships we form while we’re a mess. The people we fall apart and get back up with. We go to parties, and take care of them when they drink too much. We’ll be there for these people at any time of day or night, just like they’d be there for us. It’s a mutual, unspoken respect and love. Because they’re young like us, and they’ve been there, done that, chances are they’ve been there and done that beside us. We hated high school together, and smiled at each other saying “HELL YEAH” on graduation day. It’s our adolescence in another person, and we share the generation we’re in, and it’s awesome.
I’m not sure what it means, when my late night thoughts creep into places that scare me. Is it a good thing, like my subconscious facing my fears? Or is it bad, that I have fear in certain thoughts? Is it bad? That something as minute as a petty thought can strike a nerve, that makes me want to simply drop to my knees, and scream and cry and run and hide? Is that bad? Or does that just mean I’m human, running from the night, just like everyone else?
I find it humorous when people run their mouth about me. For multiple reasons.
1- you’re taking time out of your day to talk shit. When I don’t give a fuck. And the gossip you’re starting isn’t going to benefit anyone. And no one else gives a fuck. So you end up looking dumb.
2- if you’re willing to spend that much effort on me, I’m flattered, really. Maybe we could go out sometime and I could tell you how idiotic you are.
I may not be the happiest girl. Goodness, my eyes puff everyday it seems from some kind of tears. And I hurt people, I know. I may not be perfect, Lord knows his mercy is a blessing because I don’t deserve it at all. I am me though, and I am proud. I’m strong, stronger than most, and strength is something to take pride in. I may have tattoos, I have no regrets of them though. I may have made mistakes, but they put me in the shoes I wear today. And you may not like me, but you don’t matter much in my eyes. So tell me what I am, and please tell me what I’m not. So I can show you how I really am.
I do hurt over you, everyday. But everyday, I have more faith, and less hurt. And that alone, keeps me holding on, believing that I’ll be okay eventually.