I'd run

I don’t know why I try so hard to convince myself that I’m perfectly fine with being on my own. There’s something in me that aches the more I try to re-plaster this mask, yet the more I tell myself, the more I crumble a little inside. In due time it will show on the outside and I dread having my face so readable that it makes me entirely transparent, my soul bared on my face; allowing my defenses to break down and thus  increasing my vulnerability.

In a previous post, I spoke with such strong dislike about people who are so dependent of each other to the point where  everything and everywhere they do and go , they feel the dire need to be accompanied. Maybe it’s envy, I don’t know, maybe just plain annoyance. But I somehow can’t help feeling this way.

I am so afraid to admit that I need people sometimes. I want to be known as a person who is entirely independent, and I realized that I’ve drifted a little away. I am lost. When I am with people, I tend to latch on way too tight, engulf myself in the protection of this companionship. When I am alone, I feel a sense of accomplishment that I’ve detached myself from false human attachments.

Then there is that empty abysmal feeling. Of which I feel among people and in my loneliness. I can’t shake it and it suffocates me. 

I don’t even know what I want.