Sunday, May 15, 2011

Next Stop.

Sometimes, it stings to think that we might not be able to be around for each other when we're hurting most.

Sometimes, I'm afraid.
Because I will, and I do, want to fix it, make it better, make it go away, make you happy, except I can't.

Sometimes, I'm afraid, because there is something painfully familiar here. And I'm afraid of tipping balances. Afraid of it showing through, how I'm not actually enough, and all the thoughts I'm thinking in relation to that.

Mostly, I'm afraid.
And I hate that.

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