1 week ago
She was angry. Furious at the person she was today as she read through the journal entries of who she was then. She thought she got stronger. She thought she was getting better. But as the years went by, she was getting sadder. She was getting frustrated, and lonesome.
She knew she was always alone, she didn’t need to hear that from others. She knew she had the terrible habit of getting easily trapped in the arms of welcoming and loving people. People who tricked her. But it wasn’t all their fault. Many wanted to help the girl, wanted to reach out and push her up.
And she would flourish she would sway and dance at the people who enjoyed having her. And then there were others who got tired, and annoyed — they didn’t want her around so they had her stopped dancing. Each one plucked a petal, always ending at the “we love you not.” Always saying hurtful words, and never realizing the effect it made in her. Each time she ended up believing it more and more.
And she got angry at those who abandoned her. Who made her feel worthless, ugly and easily forgettable. She clung onto memories of others — reminiscing the moments where she felt part of the world. And so, walls were built, layers of bricks and dirt towered around and over her. No one being able to knock them down, especially since she has lost the interest of talking about herself.
She was helpless, but not because of the people. Because she abandoned herself, leaving her presence in hole 10 feet deep where no one, not even her, would want to reach out
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