Story of my life, and a narrative I need to change. I know it’s not healthy, nor is it helping in anyway, but it’s like I can’t let shit go, if that makes sense.
I just feel like, shit cuts me deep. Probably deeper than most. I try so hard to be tough and let very little people see me have “weak moments,” so when I’ve allowed you to see that side of me and you still hurt me … I just don’t know how to function. I just am in so much disbelief that after I’ve given, you still decided to fuck me over. This isn’t about someone specifically, just me looking at my life and reliving how situations have played out.
Perhaps that’s why my outlook on life, people, is so damn jaded. Because the few people I trusted, though I probably shouldn’t have, never showed up for me like I needed. Never gave the reassurance I craved, and in the end I just had to suck it up. The hurts still there, and the would probably never healed since it didn’t get a chance to see any air before I stuck a band-aid over it.
I don’t get over shit. I get past it. I stick a band-aid on it. But eventually my body will run out of room for band-aids, and I’ll have to start facing these issues head on. Eventually ..