Get It Right
“Can I start again? With my faith shaken? Cause I can’t go back and undo this. I just have to stay and face my mistakes but if I get stronger and wiser, I’ll get through this. What can you do when your good isn’t good enough and all that you touch tumbles down?”
Can I tell you a secret? Here, where it’s quiet - the sound of keys the only thing breaking the silence.
Can I tell you something that I don’t know how to articulate to my friends? To my bests? To the people I should be able to trust with my heart and my soul?
I almost regret not running away.
It’s like I can’t get far enough. To be fair, I didn’t go very far, now did I?
I don’t want to have to see everyone tomorrow. I don’t want to have to deal with some of the unhappy feelings I’m feeling towards some of them. I don’t want to have to put on a brave face, a smile, and pretend to be happy on a day that’s supposed to be for me.
They’re not here, not right now, and it’s not as if running any further will make anything better.
“Cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things, I just want to fix it somehow.”
I’m a little restless, I should probably head to the gym now, but my roommate is asleep and I know she wanted to go too - but I just need a little bit of headspace. A little time to deal with it by myself. I have less than 12 hours to get my shit together and the anxiety isn’t making anything better.
“I wish I could run away from this ship going under…”
It’s swimming in my head, these thoughts, these feelings - drowning me in their relentlessness.
I don’t like talking. I like contributing and I like offering my opinion - but I don’t like talking. I don’t like talking about how I feel, or what’ll make me feel better, for the simple fact that it’s not enough. These words, when spoken, it’s not enough for me. I never say the right thing, no one ever gets what I’m trying to say, and it always comes out wrong.
Writing here - it’s like therapy. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane when I’m going crazy. No matter how often I say it out loud, no matter to whom I say it to, it doesn’t matter.
I need this. This is headspace. This is me, working it out, saying what I need to say. Letting it out.
And sometimes I feel like… Th-
I don’t know how to say it.
I want to run.
