Patch Me Up

My soul is aching today. I'm doing my best to appease it, with yoga, and Johnny Cash and an outfit that speaks to me. I do my best to mend my soul, like I do my clothing. This dress has a pretty glaring patch on the back, but I refused to let it die.

I'm having a hard time of things in general lately, which makes me retreat onto myself. It's safe in my colourful, lively home, away from the world's demands and the people in it. Getting through a week is exhausting and mentally taxing and I just don't have the energy for people much anymore.



I'm tired of chasing after people. Tired of feeling like nobody wants me around. I can only try so many times before the futility of it gets to me. And it's frustrating because I feel like I am an amazing person with a lot to offer as a friend. But nobody seems interested in finding out, no matter how I try.

I do have some wonderful friends here, but their lives are busy and full. It's easy to fall between the cracks. And I just don't know how to get close to them, how to really build our friendship into what I so desperately need. It's hard when you always feel like you're imposing, like a burden, like the person taken pity upon, even if it's not true.

 

So I'm spending another weekend alone. Because I'm done trying for a while. If anybody wants me, they know where I am. It just makes me feel tenfold worse when I stick out my neck and have it blow up in my face. It's easier to just accept being alone. At least I'm used to it. Cheers...