5am heartaches.

It's selfish, but unsurprising- of course I'm taking it personally. 

You've always been honest, it's true. For someone with so few spoken words, you used them to the best of your abilities. 

It's not that you went unheard, or even misunderstood. It's difficult seeing it through your eyes- my heart and mind don't function in the same way. I promise I've tried though. 

So now what do I do? Cut and run? Feels a bit cowardly. Cutting off my nose, despite my face. Stay and...? What is it I'd be waiting for? You can't answer that now. Neither can I. I wonder if you even want to. 

I asked if there was a 9% chance- you laughed because you got the joke, but didn't actually answer.

I imagine we all want to believe we're worth fighting for- pushing through our own mental barriers and discomforts to meet someone where they are. I can tell you're worth it. I wonder if you know that.

 It's difficult to not have a go at myself- if I was more substantial-  smarter, prettier, thinner, more thoughtful, then maybe... 

So what's the next move? I keep hearing a monologue Charlotte Bronte wrote in Jane Eyre play in the back of my mind- it's a bit on the dramatic side, but what the hell- I'm feeling overwrought as it is-

“I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I'm afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I'd take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you'd forget me.”

You'd forget me.

Why do I feel connected to you in this way? My measures are not yours- for me it's been time, investment. Though you said I was important... I can't explain myself. I'm just going by how I feel. Surpassed logic awhile back.

I'm so tired. I don't want to chase, plead my case, convince anyone of anything. All I know is I feel like the cord is being stretched- I imagine it's up to me whether to cut it, or not. But not today.

tethers.

What if I put it all down? All the tethers.

What if it wasn't me who made the calls, or sent the texts?

I ponder this often.

It's so a part of my nature, to use my words to let others know I care. That I love them.

Bring us all together, so we know people are the most important thing.

I don't want to be the glue.

I want less responsibility.

But what if I treated the people the way I feel? Stopped responding. Left them on unread.

Maybe it's time. Take the onus off my shoulders. Be less. Expect less.



It's not a cry for attention. It's a deeply sunken exhaustion.

Maybe it will pass today, or tomorrow. I don't know.

I don't want to always pull the tethers.

disjointed.

If I don't write it down, it can't be real. Same if I don't tell anyone.

But sometimes I get scared.

I'm not the one people check up on. I'm not asked how I'm doing. To be fair to them, I avoid it by asking all the questions. By smiling.

It just comes out of no where.

This time I was driving in the car. I was awash with feelings I wasn't fully sure how to handle. Now my thoughts are completely disjointed.

The kind you feel like you can't tell anyone. The kind that hide in the corners, creep out when least expected.

I cried all the way home.

I'm noticing an up and down, up and down theme. Is it becoming an annual gut punch?

Now I'm alone.

For someone who often craves exactly that, I don't want to be. These are the moments I feel the most alone.

I can't call anyone, I just can't.


I sat here for a long time before I began to even type.

I don't have anything else to say.