Christmas went by fast this year, just as I had hoped for. We didn’t bother to indulge in dinners, late nights together or spending much time with family and friends. At least, not together. Growing up, I always knew I was different. Meeting him, I knew he was different. Put us together and we’re awkward, like a reggae beat in a catholic church.
We are, however, taking it day by day again. Just taking each situation as it is. Trying to see where exactly we used to fit in together, make our differences work together. There are ups but also downs, miscommunications and inside jokes.
Unfortunately, I can’t seem to help to keep wandering off in my mind. At times, I feel guilty for still communicating to him, knowing fully well it’ll jeopardise everything we’re trying to fix.
I find myself pathetic for not knowing what the hell I want, or not wanting to realise what I want. I find myself pathetic for letting myself linger between two worlds of the mind, not wanting to make a decision for myself, afraid of the pain and aftermath that’ll come either way. It’s sickening at times, how I even live with myself every single day, torturing myself, numbing me out from the reality, pretending. When really, one of the things I really hate is pretending.