i say this time after time: i give up, i’m really giving up. and each time i mean it and say this phrase i have uttered far too many times with an even greater conviction than the last time, but in the end i get soft, choose to naively believe in the best of you and eventually i realise that i let myself forgive and ultimately put myself willingly through the same cycle. why do i do this. he tells me that vulnerability is important and that detachment is never the way to go – and i agree fully, letting myself try again and allowing myself to get bruised. how many times have i thought “i’m tired” or “i’m done” and how many times have i meant it? every. single. time. then i think – what happens when you drop a porcelain vase, watch it smash into many pieces, then gather and glue the broken shards together, piece them back and finally you drop the vase again. how many times can you possibly gather every single shard and expect the vase to appear or function the same as before.
where is this going. defeatist or realist – the only definite thing is this morning i awoke with full realization that i am such a broken person.
i am turning 21.
but why should you care?