i fake my life like i’ve lived too much

when i’m exhausted my guard is down. you can catch me unaware.

i’ve been sitting here all night reading my past. little has changed in 13 years. i still don’t have it figured out. i still don’t know what to do with myself.

i’m listening to songs that were the soundtrack for all my pain as a teenager and crying. i still allow myself to feel all that pain.

and i think. too much. i think about what i’ve done wrong and what i’m going to do wrong. i think about where this is going, and where i’ve been, and if i want to ever go there again. i think about taking risks.

i think it’s different. i’ve thought it was different before. i think about you, and i think about myself. always. i spend hours trying to figure myself out, and i’ve never been good at puzzles.

i’ve become by choice what i once was by default. i stay in my head because it’s safer there, it’s less risky than letting things go. i purposefully isolate myself so i can remain in my head, undisturbed.

but i’m exhausted, so i’m disturbed.

i’m not actually that full of myself. i use self-absorption to mask self-doubt.

 

(written september 14 2013)

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