Diary Entry 26.
Chasing the Wind
I am weak. I want to believe that it is better for me to be alone, that it is better off to give up on any idea of love and relationships. And yet, I know that somewhere inside me, I want to find someone. Somewhere inside me, I too am hoping for a happy ending. Somewhere inside me, I want someone to pull me out of this darkness. Why do human beings insist on dreaming? Why can I not just give up already? It is all so frustrating. It is all so scary.
I am too flawed to be loved. I am too broken to be loved. I cannot love nor can I be loved. So why can I not give up on the idea altogether? Why does it still linger in my heart, like the smell of tobacco in my hair after a suffocating party?
And then, just as I was ready for the final push to try and lock it all away, he appeared.
How?
Why?
What?
How am I able to talk to him so comfortably?
Why do I feel at ease hearing his voice?
What is happening?
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