Sometimes...
Sometimes I think with my heart and not with my head. Sometimes I say things and don't think them through. Sometimes I expect people to understand what I mean, sometimes I don't and don't want them to. Sometimes the only person who has understood what I've said is me. Sometimes I don't even understand myself. Sometimes it's better to talk about things, sometimes it's better to say nothing at all. Sometimes I say things I don't mean, sometimes wish I could take the words back.
Just a note...
To say that sometimes my blog entries may not make any sense. They sometimes are not meant to, sometimes it is just me saying exactly what is on my mind and I need a place to put my thoughts, not thinking them through but putting them down just as they are. I'm sorry if it makes no sense at all, as sometimes I just need to vent.
I...
I would like to believe that everything is perfect. I would like to believe that the past doesn't matter and what is done is done but it's not always that easy. Okay, I hold grudges and dwell on what people say but that's who I am. I beat myself up inside till I'm black and blue. Again, that is me. The naïve part of me tells me that I can hide away and everything will sort itself out and you know what, sometimes I wish it would.
I miss looking forward to coming home at the end of the day - now I feel there's nothing to look forward to there. I miss spending time with my mum and sometimes I wish she was around more than she is. I understand that she has to work and she works so damn hard to give us all the things we have now, as she's the only earner in my house but sometimes I wish she was here more for no other reason than her just being here. It seems as though my home has become a place where most of us don't want to be anymore, which makes it feel empty.
I hate not knowing what is going to happen from one day to the next, whether he will be there when I wake up or when I come home from school, how long it will be, how many more Christmas' are left and if this one is the last. At the same time I can't forget what he said to me, maybe he was hating seeing me grow up, maybe he was trying to prtoect me in some weird way but I can't forget what was said.
I can't forget, I can't let go maybe that's the problem. If I said I didn't care I would be lying, because I do.
Over-analyse this...
I over-analyse everything, even the littlest thing. Sometimes people will say things, in passing not meaning anything more than what they have just said and I'll sit there for hours just going over what they said. Going through some crazy process of what was said, how it was said, what it means, how I should reply. Somehow I think there must be something beneath the surface of what they have said. Even my best friend said if he could change one thing about me it would be to make me (to quote) 'question things less'. I mean it is true I beat myself up about it (what someone has said) not sure what they meant but 99.9% of the time they merely meant what they said nothing more, nothing less.
To be honest, I am more afraid of getting hurt mentally than I am physically. Sometimes I wear my heart on my sleeve, well for certain people, with others I am a clam, I shut myself away. I don't give much off about myself to people who I somehow think have bad intentions. Saying that I am not that great a judge of character and my past history of friend could tell you so too. I guess I want to see the best in people and genuinely believe they have no other motive, be it selfish or not, to be my friend. It's true what they say
"True friends stab you in the front."
