Log in

No account? Create an account
Recent Entries Friends Archive Profile ScrapBook my other bloggy thingy

I let people into my life with no care of what it might cost me. I open the door and let them track their muddy boots on my carpet and spill their drinks on my furniture. It's my fault for not telling them to wipe their feet. It's my fault for opening the door. And it's also my fault for leaving the party without telling anybody. I suppose it's a fair trade off. If I let anybody in it gives me the right to leave at any time.

I'm too open and too honest and these ARE bad things. Once upon a time I never used to talk about myself, never used to say a word and now it's all I tell people. It's because I know that if I don't say it, nobody will ask about it, and something I need to let out. Somethings I need to share. I just wish that what I had to say was more interesting, more demanding, didn't make me sound like a 16 year old emo girl who just got in a fight with her parents and is now sulking in her room surrounded by things they bought for her, complaining about the UNFAIRNESS of it all.

If I am like that - somebody smack me and smack me hard.

I am perpetually misunderstood. If that were a shakespearian tragic flaw, it would be mine. My problem is that I assume too much - I assume that people will automatically understand what I am trying to say and I forget that there are more than one way to read things. This gets me in trouble. YOu would think that, for someone who wants to make their living off their writing, communication would be a snap. Instead, it gets me into trouble after trouble.

I let him back in. I opened the door to him because I am weak. I know what it will bring - promises that are never true. Appoligies that don't mean anything. Endearing emails and then silence. A connection for a moment that's so strong it makes me believe and then I am ignored. I forgive because I care, but at some point I need to regain my dignity. At some point I need to say no.

And to the one who never reads this - to the one who wants me close but won't tell me anything. To the one who refuses to send a letter - how much longer am I going to keep the door open for you? At times I forget that you are a real person, and not just a figment of my imagination. I have never seen you interact with people, never seen you get angry or upset. You have created yourself as much as I have. I wonder who you really are. A figment of my imagination - a dream I chase because we all need something pretty to dream about. I have presented myself to you as human, you have presented yourself to me as an imaginary friend.
:: millions of hugs:: Oh wow....I could steal this and post it in my LJ and it would make sense for me too. Hang in there babe, I am here when you need to talk.
awwwww *hugs*
you need to smack some people upside the head!
I love you like herpes ... a burning itching kind of love that lasts forever. Oh and I give you welts of love sometimes in the most inconvient places.