Sorry.
I think I’m hitting a point where I over-think out of compulsion. It’s possible that it’s a phase, but I’m extremely comfortable. So now I’m insecure out of habit, instead of delusion.
Now, granted, all of this came out of even more thinking, so maybe I’m wrong. Because just like you can’t remember to forget, you can’t think to not.
But I feel at ease. I feel calm, I feel happy. I only get antsy when I fully realize how good things are.
Far be it from me to think this is interesting to anybody. People don’t want to hear about your comfort or your pride. The masses want the struggle, and spit on the solution.
All this to say, I am happy. I am awkward and scared and consistently worried that I’m living a life that’s less interesting than everyone else… But these are not problems. I will choose to write these off as adorable quirks, and trust that the people in my life really and truly care for me as is.
It may make for a boring read, but I’m sure I’ll see you with the next heartbreak.
