I live life as if assuming I won’t live to have a long life, and I can’t remember the last time I didn’t think this way.

Every night I go to bed just slightly disappointed (some nights more than others), that I don’t have a fatal disease, and I wonder (and hope) my expiration date is nearer than I could imagine.

But my fear is that I’ll end up living a long life, because that would be just my luck.

Some people just weren’t made to live in this world long, and I really feel like I’m one of them. Or I hope that I am.

Advertisements

hellooooo.

It’s hard to believe that people care enough about me when I feel like I could fall off the face of the earth and it would take at least a few days for anyone besides like, my mom, to realize I’m not around.

Also, when you’re unemployed, it feels like you’re on the outside looking in on everyone else functioning normally and dealing with their jobs even if they hate them. But I did that for a long time. I had to do what I did. But sometimes it still feels like I failed. Like I should have continued being miserable for even longer. Except when you’re beyond miserable, it’s a lot harder to pretend you give a shit about anything at all.

Choosing to think of the kind authentic words that have been said to me recently from unlikely people. And if they could come up with the nice things they said, surely I must not be so bad and forgettable, right?

I wish I could hibernate all the way through thanksgiving, christmas and new year’s and just wake up when it’s all over. I’d save money and stress and overwhelming feelings of loneliness and unmet expectations.

there are some days where i can’t get home fast enough to put on my PJs, crank up the AC, pop open a beer and watch (consistently crappy) baseball. today was one of those.

 

Perhaps, the problem is not the intensity of your love, but the quality of the people you are loving.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑