Leaving Posted at 9:02 PM 0 comments (+) I have to leave. I have to leave because otherwise, I'm going to start believing that I'm worthless and unloved. Because in this place, there is not enough love for me, never has. I have to leave to make sure I stay sane, that I don't get too sad too often.

But I get sad anyway just thinking about all these.

I have to fight to hold up my part of the sky, I have to protect myself. At least there are times when I am strong, I'm not completely weak even if I do cry a lot. Sometimes I wonder if I were any weaker mentally, could I have already gone crazy before this. I don't know, though.

There are many things to stress over, but I just don't want to face any of them. I just want to run away. I'm starting to see myself as a lowly coward because for the last few years, all I have been doing whenever I meet with unfavourable circumstances is to run away. But it is always easier to run away, to retreat and pick the easier way out, isn't it?

I ask myself again why am I chasing what everyone is chasing.

On bad days I question myself why I am still alive. I imagine how it would feel to press a blade against my wrist and slide it across and let my life drain out of me, but I don't and won't do it because I'm not a believer of self-harm. Never was, and I hope I never will be.

When the going gets bad, I run away. Physically. I throw away all my responsibilities and I just go to my hideout for a day. For a few hours I actually feel fine. I can tap my feet to the beat of the song I'm listening to instead of just focusing on the feeling of how the lyrics break my heart. When I leave, I live again.
But then when the time draws near that I have to go back (right now), I feel all of it rushing back. The reluctance and pain and just everything. I just really don't want to go back.

If nobody ever loves you, won't you slowly start to believe you're not worth loving?
I will. And I think I have. Is it important though? Maybe not.

When I see news on innocent little children dying in accidents and whatnot, I feel so upset for them because they still have their whole lives ahead to live. They might have loved life, they might have many things they want to do yet. And I wonder why couldn't I trade places with them because I don't even care to live at all. Because sometimes I still question that if I died would people be sad. Such a childish and highschool-girl thought. Of course I know there are people who cry over me.

It is just hard to remember that sometimes.

I'm not depressed. I can laugh at jokes and enjoy music and I love being on my own but I am also so sad inside that I cannot explain it to people to let them believe me. Because I seem so fine all the time it isn't easy for others to think I am not. But sometimes I'm not.

Time to go back.