Five Minutes, Please.

I remember a time when social events exhausted me. You know? When you couldn’t wait to escape away from life again. When you were free to feel however you wanted to feel. And do whatever you wanted to do because it was your life and you lived it happily… alone. I miss those days. But I also miss the people I care about.

The drama of friendships and ridiculousness of relationships. I’ve become too dependent on people I’ve come to love and now I have to adjust to being alone again. How diverse that word is, alone. You know me, just a lone wolf making my way through the world… as I sit here, pathetically crying. It makes me wonder if this is how people feel when they say they feel alone. I always admired that word.

Now I have a new understanding for it because alone this time, well, feels lonely. I don’t like this feeling. I feel blank inside. Empty, like there’s nothing left to pull out and give to someone else. I want someone to feel me. To take into consideration my heart and soul and mind. I want to be selfish for just 5 minutes so I can take a break from caring for myself. So I can… be, and think, and feel… weak. For just 5 minutes I don’t want to be the strong one. I don’t want to feel embarrassed for feeling weak. I wanted 5 minutes curled up, on my bed, and for someone to wipe away my tears. To tell me it’s okay to do this because I’m only human. I’m exhausted. And I just wanted a break from myself.

I know I’ll be okay. I know I can do it by myself. I know I’ll figure it out. I always have. “Just write a blog” blehhh, that’s just not what I wanted. But hey, I’ll be okay, I mean I gave myself 5 minutes. How gay is that? I’ll be back to whatever the fuck normal is in the morning. I’ll take care of myself and I’ll adjust just fine. Maybe blogs do work.

Times up.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

A Website.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: