Friday, February 10, 2012


Connecting with words as if they are alive. Words are a fickle friend. When I take a break and then return, I am not met with warmth; no, I am given the cold shoulder. I have to prove my loyalty once again. Some days I wonder if I will ever regain my friend's trust. I usually do. But during a dry spell, I agonize that my dear friend will not forgive my absence this time; leaving me mute and all alone. But this friend of mine doesn't hold a grudge forever, just for a little while I must suffer while my friend withholds its love. Just long enough for me to fill with regret and remorse for having ever left. I want to return. I long to return. Although I know that I will leave again one day.

Thursday, February 9, 2012


I haven't posted in a very long time. There hasn't been anything that I have wanted to say. I haven't wanted to share my inner thoughts and feelings with other people. But right now, in this moment, I feel terribly lonely and empty; two very vulnerable and painful emotions. The last thing that I have wanted to do was to share my vulnerability with other people, since I have always equated vulnerability with rejection.

Maybe I'm being impulsive. However, I know that I need to write; it has been so long. It feels as though I have lost most of my ability to convey anything meaningful. As I am writing these words, I feel the emptiness filling up ever so slightly.

There are so many of you that I want to reach out to, but I hesitate because more than anything, I fear rejection and judgement. I never let my guard down; always on edge; constantly frightened of being hurt.
So much of the time, I am terrified, and this is the way it has always been for me. Sometimes I want to let people know that I'm so scared. I want to be told that it's all okay, that I'm okay and that I am really not the terrible person that I imagine myself to be. I live in a constant state of feeling as though I have done something terribly wrong, and I am just waiting for punishment to come my way. Although if I scan my memory I can't find the terrible thing that I have done. I've made some mistakes, but those things don't make me a bad person. So I carry this kind of shameful feeling with me always. I realize that some of you will judge me for confessing my vulnerability, and quite frankly I'm not sure that my sharing in this way is even appropriate. There are probably better ways to connect, and I may regret this later. But I hurt and I don't want to be in this pain alone.