Why

 I stand back and watch some of my biggest fears unfold. The inability to stop my mind from wandering, the oversharing, others misunderstanding my feelings. I want to find someone who understands my heart. It loves too hard, jumps in head first, gets hurt and has to be put back away. It’s been shattered too many times and yet still loves even when it doesn’t get it back. 

I am afraid. I wasn’t looking for anything else and now I’m here and I don’t know how to continue. Do something else and possibly lose everything in the process. An opportunity to start over, to try again, to press reset. You’ll probably be annoyed with me soon enough because I can’t be someone else. Someone you’d be proud of. Someone who isn’t afraid. 

Fold me up and stick me in your pocket and take me out when you’re ready. Where’s my sexy cool girlfriend? The one that sends me nudes at inappropriate times, the one that brings me peace, the one that loves and wants to be loved. I’m surrounded by chaos and disappointment and the whirlwind that I’ve let run through my life. You say you want to be there for me, but I ultimately feel like you don’t really. You shouldn’t have to resort to writing in a blog because you have no one to talk to. The thing is, I don’t. No one understands what exactly I’m going through. Sometimes this is all I have because I can’t keep things inside indefinitely. They start to leak our of my eyes and I feel like I’m going to explode. I don’t want to be here anymore. You think I’m joking when I say I want to just pack up and live out of my car, I’m not though. I just can’t be what people want me to be. 

Why would I think you’re an awful person? I have cheated on every partner I’ve ever had. This is pretty awful. Did I do it to hurt anyone else? No. I just don’t know how to stop something completely before I start something else I guess. No malice involved, actually the opposite is true. If I’m being hurt, I take it and just bandage myself up elsewhere. Let you think everything is okay. 

Today I’m a fucking bitch. I am a shitty person. You fucking hate me. I lack accountability and responsibility. I’m a cheater. I’m a crazy bitch too. I’m also pretty gross. I’m a deadbeat mom. And I’m losing my mind. Imagine saying all these things to mother of your child.

You tell me to stop apologizing. I can’t help it because I feel like I’m a disappointment to you. I can’t be everything, no matter how hard I try. I told you I was pain I the ass, you didn’t listen. 

So Many Shades of Gray

A black and white image of the world. Good and bad only. Up and down, left and right, north and south. All things are one or the other.
Take a closer look.
 Some things are either black or white, but the rest of the image is made up of shades of gray. From black to white and every shade of gray able to be seen by the human eye.
 Take a look again.
An image that once was categorized as all or nothing, yes or no, right or wrong, is now anything but. Seas of gray of every shade imaginable, from to the lightest to the darkest spread themselves out and join to make up an image. Crisp and clean. Stark and ethereal.
All from so many shades of gray.