Trust

I didn’t do it.

I was too scared. My whole life is in that email. To just give it away like that. It was just too much for me. I decided that I’ll put it somewhere safe and if he ever decides to want to read it I’ll hand it over.

But why am I just going to spill my soul when he won’t? I know there needs to be trust in friendships but this goes way deeper . It’s all my secrets . I don’t want to overwhelm him with everything if all he has to say is one little mistake he made.

This morning when I woke up I decided that in the notebook that we share, I’ll be writing things he doesn’t know about slowly building my way up to what I have to tell him. It’s not for him to tell me his secrets it’s just for him to see how much I trust him.

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Unappreciated 2.0

I have a rant. If you don’t wont to hear it then the door is right there *points to the door*.

OK, so lately I think working two jobs is getting to me. I have been more stressed and have been more worn out. I have been feeling down. I think I need time to myself, time to go far far away with my thoughts and just think.

One of my greatest problems is giving my all to people and it seems that I never get back half of what I give. I feel so unappreciated. I feel unwanted. I do feel needed but only to be used for other people’s purpose.

I’m tired of feeling this way. I’m tired of always complaining. I’m tired of always playing the victom. Why can’t I for once be the one with the perfect life. Why can’t I be satisfied with what I have. I like to think I am happy with the things I do and the things that I own, but I don’t, and I don’t want more. Possessions is not what I desire. Its peace. Its time. It’s just the feeling of being ok. But how can I have those things when all I feel is empty.

Rejection 

            It’s crazy how we as human beings always have to be a part of something. We always have to feel wanted. And when we don’t, the feeling of rejection feels like fire consumming up a beautiful green forest in the middle of the night. It feels like a knife slowly erupting from within the heart cutting circulation and cutting life itself. At least for me it does. 

            That’s pretty much how I have felt all my life. One of my main fears, if not my number one, would be, rejection. It feels awful. One of the worst feelings someone can have. Specially when all you have ever wanted was to be part of something, to be, involved. 

            Everyday at work the coworkers I associate the most with and I always sit at the same table. We have marked it as our table. Not literally of course but mostly everyone knows that it is where we sit on our breaks and lunches. But some times someone new or just another random employee will sit there. That won’t make my coworkers sit else where though. They will just pull up a chair and sit around them. 

            It may seem rude but they are polite and say hi and offer their food or snacks. Maybe we should sit somewhere else? Maybe we should get there earlier? But we don’t. 

            Today though was different. I got ther last and all the seats were taken. It’s a table for four, and I was number seven. I pulled up a chair and Mr. Brown who was sitting at a near by table said, “Dam man! There’s a free table right there.” 

           I felt really bad. Yes, I could have gone to that table and sat alone. And even though I don’t consider my coworkers friends they are still close associates I talk to. As bad as it sounds they are there to fill the empty void I would feel if I was alone. 

            When Mr. Brown said that, it made me feel bad. Bad that I wasn’t brave enough to sit alone. Bad that I always had that feeling of rejection in the back of my mind that I had to avoid. Bad that I always had a feeling of being wanted. Bad that I had to sit at that table to feel part of something. Bad because I was just using them to not feel alone. 

But, am I the only one?

Mean

          Why are people so mean? Or is it that I just live in a ghetto city? Where people don’t give a fuck about what they say or what they do? Where they don’t care how they treat people, or let alone, if they hurt them? Where they only think about themselves?

          Or maybe I was raised right. I was raised to be respectful. I was raised to be kind and to care about others. To treat others the way you want to be treated. But what if you don’t get that in return? Still, I continue to be nice. Am I too good for this city? Or am I just too humble?

          At work there is a wide long cold distance between girls. Some don’t talk to each other because one didn’t say hi to the other for one day. Others because they simply forgot to invited them to a work birthday lunch, then all the sudden they are sworn enemies. All this is so stupid, but why do you girls live like this? It’s almost like they like it. But when they go home do they not feel the pain that the other person must be in? Wondering why they did the things that they did? 

          Then there are guys who, I don’t know why, but for fun they like to say ‘fuck you’ to each other. THERE IS NO POINT IN THIS. So why do it? Then there is that masculinity bullshit. My dick this my dick that, pussy, pussy, pussy. Who cares? Well, actually, who ever does care is one stupid person with no life goals. There’s more in life than your dick dude. 

          I just want to meet a genuine kind person. Not someone who at first will seem like a nice lovely rose, but then turn out to have the most vicious and sharpest thorns of them all. 

          I wish people would be nicer. I wish people would think before they say their hurtful words. I wish people could see how their words can affect people. I wish they could change. But it’s not up to me. That’s the sad part. 

Why?

Dear Journal, 

          I am, in yet, another conundrum. But as I lay here in bed writing this, I wonder, is it of my own doing? Or am I one of those people that has such a big heart that can only find blame in ones self and not others? Would a person with a big heart say that? 

          Why do I say this? Well, one of my friends sent me a Snapchat the other day. I ignored it because I just couldn’t face to open up a conversation after we hadn’t spoken in months. And also, or should I say mainly? I was some what mad. Maybe a little irritated that this person would try to start a conversation after this long, by means of a social media. Why not text and say hey, I miss you how you been? Or possibly I was wondering how your doing. A freaking call would have been nice! But no, there was no call, no text, just a simple picture that erased after four seconds never to see the light of day again. So, of course, I did not respond. 

           Today she sent a video. You you think it was heart warming? Maybe some words of motivation? No. I noticed that at the same time I got the snap she and her husband were out and about with they’re dog and she put it on her “story”. Must have been a video about that. I did not open it and I have yet to. I don’t want to. Right now I’m in a shitty place in my life that I can barley bare day by day. And you have the audacity to send me cute snaps and videos of you having the time of your life? Excuse me but, what the fuck? That’s not what you do to a friend. Oh your sad? Oh, life isn’t treating you well? That’s to bad, but look at my cute dog playing in the sand on the beach by the hotel we booked for the weekend because we just had extra money around and we didn’t know what else to do with it. Ok maybe that’s an extreme exaggeration, but that’s what I feel. Unfortunately that’s how my brain is wired to think. 

          Then on the whole other side of the coin I blame myself fully. I don’t diserve friends like that. I know that they care. They are the best, they are good.  I stood them up because I didn’t have enough money to buy chips and didn’t have the balls to tell them. (Then again, anxiety). Every time they reached out I pushed hem away. (Then again, they didn’t actually try). 

          We all may have a little to do in all this but deep down I just have so many things to yell at them. I just need to get it all out of my system. To ask them questions. Beg them for explanations. 

          Why didn’t you notice I was falling apart? Why didn’t you see how much I was struggling? Didn’t you see how my smiles turned into frowns? Why didn’t you notice how unhappy I was feeling? Why didn’t you sympathize when I said things weren’t going so good? Why didn’t you ask if everything was actually ok when I said it was? Why did you wave evey forced smile when you knew there was more behind it? Why didn’t you care? Why didn’t you try harder? Why did you stop trying? 

Why?


4/25/2017