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♡ paint you a picture.
Thursday, December 30, 2010, 11:57 PM

No, I don’t want to talk about how I feel. I can’t explain it to you. I can’t tell you that the smallest things can cover me in sadness for days. I don’t want to tell you that I’m crying, that there are tears streaming down my face, you’ll think I’m over reacting, because I am. That’s what I do. I get too upset about the small things because I push all my emotions away and pretend I don’t feel them and then they build up, and up, and up, becoming a huge mess of pent up anger and sadness and fear and tiredness and loss and pain and every thing else I pretend not to feel, and then this, situations like this happen and everything falls apart. I fall apart. I can’t tell you that, because I can’t get even more attached to you than I already am. I’m already in too close and I already care too much when you don’t, you can’t care enough. I can’t expect you too, I don’t want you too, I don’t want to become more attached and then be forgotten and left behind as always seems to happen. I don’t want to rely on you caring about me and being there for me and then have you move on and never speak to me again. I can’t go through this again with yet another person. Everyone leaves. I need to remember that, because you, I thought you were an exception, but everyone leaves. I don’t know why I thought you’d be any different, you’re not. It’s not just this, it’s everything. You’re so hard to reach, impossible to really read, and I let my guard down. I let my guard down and now I need to deal with the mess that has caused. The mess I have become. So no, I can’t talk about this with you because it’s only going to make things worse, I need to start sorting things out. I’m starting to doubt everything here, and your words are pushing me over the edge.