Why I'm Not Staying

It's hard to look back on my recent "holiday" and say that I didn't go through permanent life defects. It's hard to look back on the last two or three years of my life and say that I haven't gone beyond my limit--I've changed drastically and it's the kind of change that's impossible to reverse and take back. Sometimes, I pray really hard that I haven't gone too far, that it isn't too late to live the life I've lived before.

It has been a slow, painful decay and I wish that some masks can be worn stronger so that all the pruning and breaking and sharpening become a little bit more tolerable. Everyday since December, my threshold for people and scrutiny has shrunk smaller and smaller. I'm afraid that now, that threshold no longer exists. I am meticulous in more ways than one but if there's anything the last few months have taught me, a little bit of leniency, intentional relationships, a strong grasp of purpose and the gift of grace go beyond what the mind can fathom. Not that I received all of those--I didn't, that's why I know. That's why in my head, I can logically and easily pinpoint where the blame should go (and I don't exclude myself when I do).

I'm tired of feeling lonely, of being publicly humiliated, of being laughed at, of being belittled--implicitly or directly. I am tired, so tired, of giving unnecessary sacrifices when there could have always been a simple solution to keep things light, fast and emotionally healthy. I may never be the same again but the promise I made to myself when the New Year kicked in rings so loud and so true: I am off to discover greater things than this.

To Leave

There are days when I don't want that day to come, there are days when I am desperate for it to carry me away because I want to completely cut the strings that when tugged, tug harder.

Fly Away

There are times in my current life when I really want to flee from this place. To just get on that plane and leave, because all the friendships (?) I've built here are useless.

And then the funniest (or un-funniest) thing is, when I express my love for hibernation, they wonder without really understanding that it was because I was, deliberately or unintentionally, neglected by the very same people I painfully, painfully keep choosing to understand. It's like a new scar scars my old scar and it keeps going on in that excruciating cycle and I just have to give up.