Dear you,
The environment seems to have become averse to me. In places where I had found most support and stability now present threats and sources of disconcertion - in worse cases, agony. There is a feeling that I hold which I am not sure whether can be simply called stubbornness. There is a feeling that they, their opinions and preferences, do not matter. That they are simply in passing, and that they have not gone through as much consideration as I do.
The rain begins to patter and I wonder if hope it's in reassurance.
Of course, I steady myself. Caution not to become ungrateful and selfish. These are the people who care... But I also have to set my own boundaries, conquer my own battles and learn for myself. And this is where I am at. Such an uncomfortable position, so tenuous that the very ground which I place my feet seems to beg me to find someplace else.
Is Love worth this? Is Love manifested in such fickle and transient a thing as a fellow human being worth some things that might never return? Worth poor impressions and waning relationships. I suppose now it is to ask, which ones? Whose impressions and which relationships? I ought to say more to my mother. But it seems to take so much from me. Vulnerability has been ringed to its maximum, bravery finds 'better days'. More than once it feels like my blood has become only a dilution, everything has lost its density. I float and hope for somebody to hold me.
