This is strange…

My eyes are tired and my body is aching.
I’m exhausted, And it’s not the kind of exhaustion you have when you don’t get enough sleep.
It’s exhaustion from being yourself and being alive.
My skin is shallow, pale. There are dark circles around my eyes.
My body has cracked because my mind is broken.

I walked and walked, As I got to the local 7/11 my heart suddenly sank and all I could feel was my throat choking on the tears I tried to hold back. I sat there and wept for half an hour and as the pain of it all got stronger, everything got harder to bear…but the confusion of it was not the sadness, it was why I felt this awful pain in the first place. 
I finally pulled myself together, bought my pack of Marlboro Gold’s as the cashier gave me a sympathetic smile and I swallowed my despair for another night.

Everyone around me refuses to scratch the surface, to really know someone skin deep because they don’t even know themselves and are too scared to give that much, to be vulnerable only to be hurt in the end. 

They’re so afraid of getting hurt that they forget that in order to find love you have to suffer a little along the way. We all put up our barriers waiting for someone only to find once we let down our defenses that’s when we can finally love and be loved.

I’ve always since a young age worn my heart on my sleeve and no one around me seemed to understand that. 

Once when I was around the age of 8 years old I was watching a children’s film in class. By the end of it I was crying because I simply felt too much and couldn’t hold back my tears like anyone else. A girl sitting next to me happened to notice and jeered at me for it.

No one understood what it was like, to feel so much and to be so overwhelmed by everything that surrounded me.
I don’t think they still do, or ever will.

A girl walks past me as I’m sitting by the table drinking my coffee and smoking my last cigarette. As she passes me she slightly knocks the table I’m sitting near, lets out a meek “Sorry” and I barely, just barely hear it.
And I realize she is me, only a few years ago, so awkward and so scared. I feel the sudden need to approach her, to know her but like her I’m still scared and I’m still that awkward girl I was 2 or 3 years ago.
I leave before her, and I feel her eyes watch me as I go.
I think she wants to know me too.

I’ve always yearned for affection and salvation, I seek it with boys who have never known any better and for awhile they would give it to me. By holding my hands, cradling my body or simply kissing me because I let them, regardless whether I wanted it from them or not, It was something I needed. 

And when I didn’t have them I simply held onto anything wherever I went, whether it was clutching my bag or cradling my last cigarette. But there was something in me that feared that attention, I felt so fearful and vulnerable when someone embraced or touched me. When you’re exposed that way it’s terrifying.