Baggage

So I told K about A. I think K got a little mad at the fact that I was dependent on A during rougher times of my life. Not at me, but at A. I explained everything, and K didn't seem too scared off by my baggage. And I mean baggage. Granted, if he wasn't at least thinking that I'd ever considered suicide, then, I'd hidden it well. I just wonder how obvious it was that I was, at one point, too attached. 

Anyways, hopefully, there won't be any sort of repercussions from the great revelations of tonight. 

Moving on

For the first time in a long time, I thought about someone who, at one point, was a major part of my life just because he was the one person I felt I could talk to about any and everything. He was my best friend, and I was half in love with him (okay, potentially more than half). Tonight, I came to the realization that, just maybe, I've finally moved on. I don't know if I should be relieved or saddened.

But with that, I have to wonder if I have indeed moved on, what have I moved on to? To being a stronger person because of this connection I once had, or to another connection that may never amount to anything? I think I am falling for someone, but I don't think I've fallen. The possibility of this scares me. But then, it's the same thing all over again, and it feels exactly the same yet completely different.

God, it's strange the way just thinking about all of this just makes me want to cry, and go to the best friend, but I don't know if that's an emotionally healthy option anymore. 

Headaches

Sometimes, I wonder just how many of my headaches come from being around people who piss me the hell off and forcing myself to smile.

Sometimes, I wonder if I am too broken.

Sometimes, I think I've read too much PostSecret.

Sometimes, I smile when all I really want to do is let the walls come down and just cry.

Sometimes, I really just want to tell everyone how I really feel about them.

Sometimes, I KNOW I've read too much PostSecret.

Sometimes, I just get a style of writing stuck in my head.

Sometimes, I wonder why I didn't just do what I was planning years ago on doing on this past January 11.

The joys of the mask...

We all have masks that we put there for the rest of the world. Whether it be the congenial salesman or the person who is happy with herself, there's a mask for all of us.

I think I wear my mask too well. One comfortable with any intimacy is the face that I show to the world. Some will see that I struggle with it, while others will see the girl who has friends that she has come to trust with her life far too easily.

What about the real girl beneath? The one who forges connections on emotional levels, but when confronted with more freezes and spirals down a cycle of self abhorrence and destroyed confidence. Perhaps it is because of childhood abuse. No.... No perhaps.

Thanks family, for making the fucked up person that I am today.