They don’t care enough to understand me, to understand that my silence only means I want them to try harder to reach out to me, because I can’t reach out to them. I use silence a lot to speak, not very effective since my ploy only seems to hurt myself. I need people, except it’s that push and pull of “I Hate You, Don’t Leave Me”. I’ve left me, and abandoning ship seems like a decent option.
Yesterday on a social networking site, I posted the following to my status about something I was thinking, not for myself, mainly for B, hours before the major event transpired:
“To foster continual awareness:
Sometimes a person’s going to do things that you don’t understand. Sometimes a person does these things to survive. Sometimes you’re going to feel completely helpless because realistically you can’t do anything. Sometimes that person is waiting for a person like you to come along, and have help coming out of the darkness. Sometimes you CAN help. Sometimes you can do something. Sometimes you ARE the answer.”

There’s a slap of irony in the face.


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