I act like I don’t care because I care too much. I care about what people think of me I care about others I care how people see me I care if I say the wrong thing to people I care about my reputation I care about others more than my self and I trust people too easily and when people realise that they take advantage of it and they hurt you and betray you and they don’t care as long as it benefits themselves. But for some reason despite everything I believe in I trust you more than everyone else I’ve ever met. That’s why I’m sensitive, because I feel everything, because whether you know it or not you are the one person who can literally break my heart.
I always give advise to people who are in toxic relationships. I can see it instantly that certain relationships and friendships aren’t healthy and I’m always bewildered as to why they didn’t notice it themselves. I think dependency is toxic, relying on someone to the extent that they hurt you is toxic. Being so conflicted with your feelings and second guessing your self, your gut feelings and betraying yourself and what you believe in is not healthy. All these things I preach to others and tell them it’s not healthy, and yet I find myself in a toxic relationship because of all of these things.
When I wrote these words a year ago i thought I had addressed them to an ex that had wondered back into my life.
I had felt for so long the poison in the air around me and how is it just now when I look back I see I wrote these words to me.
Blinded by fear, resentment, anger
A black seed had planted itself in my heart and began to leek its caosI was not ready to hear these words about myself until now, a crack in the caos that has let light and warmth and joy in.
Surround yourself in light
Do not be afraid
Love and be lovedIt is only that, which will make life.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of a stargazer
General FictionThe thoughts and confessions of a dreamer. Love, loss, self exploration. The path you walk on is entirely your own, whether it be pathed with gold or packed with dirt. Hers was pathed with yellowed pages of books, scattered with memories in the s...