It’s been an emotional month.
First off, I lost my uncle to coronary heart disease. The angioplasty never happened. I couldn’t even say goodbye. Next, I fell out with one of my friends because I “take myself too seriously” – which, by the way, is not remotely true. I worried myself into a fever so many times, and now, twenty-four years old, I’ve got literal breathlessness and possible (major) heart problems.
Do I blame anyone for what happened to me? Not anymore.
I am the only one to blame. I’m the one who let other people walk all over me. I let them do their thing, I let them judge me, label me, while I took all of it. Lying down.
Nobody ever asked if I was okay.
Nobody cared to look at my side of the story.
Still they only ever wondered why I was so uptight, and why I wouldn’t act the way they wanted me to.
They never knew how many nights I stayed up, talking to the cats on my wall. Loneliness can be scary at times. I’ve learned to walk on eggshells. Treading carefully like a ballerina in a field filled with hidden landmines. Never knowing when one would go off. Causing accidents. Having a bit of me stripped away with each accident. Gone. I will never recover those lost pieces.
But loneliness, I won’t let you claim me.