I am a good person, certainly not the best, but overall a good person.
I am someone who will call off work to go to your cheating boyfriends birthday dinner in support of you and your broken heart, all the while wanting to throw a knife into his chest.
I am someone who will pick up your weekly farm share when you are away.
I am someone who will hide the madness running rampant throughout my brain to hear about your latest adventures.
How is it that I cannot function in this atmosphere?
To earn a sense of belonging, you must wade in the water before you finally sink in.
Being lost at first is the norm. What if I have been lost for four years, and still searching? People are unable to understand me, because I can hardly explain who I am. Something inside still feels empty.
I refuse to sit here and regret my past decisions. Maybe they were not the rights ones, and maybe they were impulsive.
It is so hard.
Why couldn’t I just be like everyone else? Go away to school, make new friends, find my passion, fall in love, and find what my life is meant for.
This is not a pity post. Do not read this with a sympathetic frown. Know that this is writing out of frustration with myself.
I am a good person, but how the hell can they tell? I don’t live on campus. I am here for four classes, three days a week. Work consumes whatever school does not.
I smile and they smile back, seemingly nice, but uninterested.
By finding solace in the silence, I have betrayed the extroverts of society.