When I think about how I left home and everyone I know to go to a new city and start my life afresh, I did not intend on past problems to reoccur with different people. At least not so soon. Deep down I should’ve known it was bound to happen. And I am definitely starting to push people away. New people in my life don’t get a permanent spot. I don’t trust anyone new, and I barely talk to the people I do love and trust. I’m trying my hardest to pretend that I’m okay. Trust me, I truly am. I drift away long enough to break down and short enough to not cause concern. The rest of the time, I’m laughing and smiling and joking around. Because I don’t want anyone to be concerned. I don’t feel I should matter all that much to anyone. And if anything were to ever happen to me, I want everyone to move on. I’ve been on self-destruct for the majority of my life; I’ve no intentions of sticking around long. The two people I loved most uniquely and who knew me the best are dead. So I’m sorry if I don’t want to live all that much longer than they did. Anyways, I’m rambling at this point. This was kind of depressing. But the most important takeaway should be that I am 100% OK.
Oh, and another thing I want to fking address is the fact that my own mother won’t talk to me. She doesn’t ask about how I’m doing, has my number blocked, no pictures of me on her Facebook, and generally disowned me. Little bit off topic, but when you were the best kid anyone could’ve asked for, stayed out of trouble way better than most normal kids, who helped in every single way she could, and your mom just cuts you off, it really hurts. And I’m aware this isn’t written to the best of my abilities, however, I simply do not care. I may have a few too many commas–but I don’t give a flying fk.
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