On A Personal Note: 3~10~11

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You know you’ve reached that point when you start erasing all traces of a memory. Even though you know deep down that it’s an impossible task. You know you’ve reached that point when your  exit is silent and without fan fair. You just go.  You stop announcing your departure. You stop being angry. You stop trying. You stop caring. That’s when you know.

It’s never a good time. It’s never the right time to reach out. It’s never the right time to try to communicate. The words aren’t put in exactly the right way. The feelings aren’t right for the situation. The timing is never right. It’s wrong. Everything is wrong, all the time. Nothing to do but wait. Wait for the right time. Except there is never a right time. You just gotta wait. All the time, waiting.

So you wait.  Wait to be told that you’re making up narratives. Wait to be told that there is no sympathy for how you’re feeling. You wait to be made to feel as though your feelings aren’t real when all you were truly waiting for was to be acknowledged and heard. You were waiting  to be heard.

No point in talking when you aren’t being heard. So you just…give up.

You give up.

 

 

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