You’re terrified of putting yourself out there and getting disappointed again. Besides, no one you meet can ever compare to your first real love.
Only when she left you, did you give a damn. Only when she said goodbye, did you open up your heart again. Only when she slammed the door, was when you grew up and changed. Only when she gave up you, did you want her back
You have a small circle of friends, because you don’t like to open up your soul and spread your secrets around.
I’m a little sad and a little scared to assume my power as an adult person in this world. So because I am an action-item oriented human, I’m choosing to (at least try to) cancel out the self-doubt with self-love.
To marvel at, explicitly. To worship, overtly. To raise my gaze upwards when I look to you, but to not stop there, to go even further – and to do it, ever – so proudly.
I’m just me. And the “she” that I saw with that guy is also just…her. She’s as human as I am, and so there’s really no competition.
My journey is Heartbreak. Childhood Trauma. Iraq’s Warzone. Helplessness. Stigma. My journey is Bipolar Disorder. PTSD. And a fierce case of acute anxiety with a sprinkle of panic disorder on top. My journey is survival, finding hope, and sharing my experiences because the vibrations you create will be returned as an even greater echo.
You check your phone every 5–10 minutes for notifications.