teilzeit poesie

Trashtalk 82

I'm sorry if I ever made you feel bad. I'm sorry if I ever messed things up, if I wasn’t a good friend. I was lost in my own mind too often. I’m sorry. Sorry for being a bad friend. I’m sorry for everything wrong I did. I know it’s okay to make mistakes, to fall, and to grow from it, to make things better than before. And... I don’t think I’m a good person. I think I'm selfish, egocentric, eccentric. People like me; they like what I write, my poems. Sure, it's good, but something feels like it's missing. I'm always so cold, like stone, and I don’t know why. I don’t know what's wrong with me or why I can’t feel deeply for others.

Whenever I meet new people, I’m open, I enjoy talking, spending time with them. I really love it. And most of the time, people like me too; we connect, start liking each other, maybe dating. But then, it’s always the same story. I mess it up. I can’t develop feelings, and the other person ends up hurt. Or it’s the other way around, and it’s just crazy… and maybe I’m crazy. I wish I could feel more for others. I wish I were less eccentric, more caring. I wish I could fall in love with someone who truly appreciates me. With someone who loves me as I am. But every time somebody likes me, I can’t feel the same way back. Since my heart was broken, it feels like I can never love someone again. That’s sad because I love love and all the things it could bring. It’s so painful to think I might never have that. Not now, maybe never. But maybe in a few months or years, I’ll be ready for something new. Something healthy, something happy.

But I’m scared. I don’t have time to wait. I don’t want to wait. I don’t know. I need to change, to get up and be a better person, a better version of myself. I want to be better than I am now. I could talk for hours about all this, but talking isn’t enough. If I don’t actually do something, I’ll just keep crying and complaining without making things better. I know I’m a mess; I know I might need help, maybe a therapist. I know all these things, yet somehow I don’t change. It feels like I’m not strong enough. Not strong enough to lift myself up, to do the things that will make me happy, that will bring me a better life, a career, something meaningful. And even though I’m unhappy with my life as it is now, I know nothing will improve if I don’t act.

I know I’m a mess; I know I can’t help myself, but something has to change. Quickly. If I don’t change myself, I’ll never change my future.