Growing up is the hardest thing I will ever have to do,
... ... ...
Because honestly, now I don't give a flying ******** about it anymore. I can't find the light I so easily saw not too long ago. I miss the days where I didn't have to care. The ones where I could see my own ambiance, and the effects I had on the ones I cared about. Now I question nothing, because I am beyond the point of where I really care anymore. The past two years have been riddled with pain, hatred, betrayal, depression, death and life, and I have done nothing but sit back and let things take their tolls on me.
I gave them, my friends, my life. I gave them everything I could without hurting myself, and now it is all coming back to haunt us. Each and every one of the people who took me for granted and I, but there is one who said that this is my choice. I know it is, but I don't have the strength to change it anymore. She says I do, but in truth, I don't want to: there are parts of my life that I love that have only come because of how horribly I considered myself.
There are other such ways, yes, like how /he/ truly came into my life. Yes, him, the one I look up to to most. He has seen so many parts of me, and I can tell him secrets, because he tells me them, too. I may be a girl, and I may have only seen him once before, but we're so honest with one another; it's hard to imagine we had only met on the march of 2011, but he's like my best friend. I trust him so much it's absurd.
He feels that he always lets me down when I need him, and I'm waiting until the day he realizes that he has never let me down before. After I was crying my eyes out to him over Facebook that one night and had to log out, he went to go talk to my friend. He was crying when he did, because he felt like he had failed at being someone I could rely on to be comforted. He was horribly wrong, as I told him the next day over Facebook again. He had done a better job at comforting me than those that I usually ran to for shelter and protection from the cruelty of life. He had seen the part of me that I hide from most any one.
The other people I call my friends have yet to touch upon or hear of nearly every corner of who I am like he has; they have yet to realize that they will never see the whole picture and will never, ever become someone I will always love the most. Maybe they did, once, when I was a different person, but that is the past. That me is the past, and I am more complex than I was yesterday. One day, I will drown in my own regrets and my own sorrows, and that will be the end of me and the end of my story.
I learned to swallow the sorrows of everyone else, but none of my own. I learned to put others above myself. This is what I get for that and for being a Leo, a lion Rising in the sunset, and for being me. I deserve it because that is what I believe I deserve. I am a hypocrite, because I would never wish this on anyone, but I deal it to myself. I have my own story, one that I never wish to have to tell, but I know that one far away day, I will wake up, look back upon myself and my life, and realize that I will be beautiful the way I will be, and it would all be thanks to the way I raised myself under the pressures of life.
But I'm not there yet