L’esprit De L’escalier

I’ve realised I make comments about some things like I don’t care in order to hide the fact that I care too much, in case it bites back at me or something.

I’m pretty sure it won’t, but I worry a lot that people think I’m being silly and over emotional about things. I worry that they realise I invest my heart in certain things and certain people and make myself vulnerable. And I’m not sure why it matters that they know how vulnerable about certain things and certain people I am when they are friends that I’m talking to.

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Late Night & Waking

I hate waking after a night out. The light hitting my eyes is filled with self-loathing and defeat, a thousand pains and what-ifs and whys. I hate waking to find my bed empty because you’re not there after dreams where we’re talking. We reminisce.

I hate waking with the wish that I hadn’t left the house, ruined myself with alcohol and guilt. But why do I feel guilty when you’re the one who did it? This guilt that I feel when every guy hits on me or people try to get me to let some nice fella buy me a drink or take me home. This horrible, revolting guilt… like I’m being unfaithful to you. And I never was.

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Shoot The Moon & Miss Completely

I have a big thing for the moon. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that, readers, but I do. I always have had. I could stare at it for hours. It’s beautiful. And still. And quiet.

It’s like being watched over by something so bright and so calm when all else in your life is dark. Its beauty is so exquisite and ethereal…

Third life post in a week without a fiction in between, right? Must mean there’s something up. I don’t know. There isn’t really. But sometimes I need to write things out so they aren’t cooped up in my head, pulling my mood deeper and deeper down.

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Love Letters

I put my heart in a letter the other night. This letter will probably never see its recipient. It was never meant to be posted anyway – it was just a way to help me get to sleep and stop thinking things out.

A very good friend of mine, one of the best, once told me about how writing letters to people (even if you don’t send them) can help you to deal with things. Maybe it’s because you get out the things you want to say but can’t since you don’t have to worry about what the other person will think and how they’ll react.

Some of us are trapped by thoughts of others (hence my Rabbit Hearted Girl post).

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