When will I ever be good enough for myself? I don’t know if I need to feel sorry for feeling this way. I always end up hating myself; always treating myself less important than I am. It’s like, it became my hobby, to make myself feel down and disappointed, be hard on myself every time.
You said contentment will lead me to happiness.
If that so, show me how to be contented with this loneliness,
so I could be happy.
We want people to understand us,
yet we distance ourselves to them.
We want someone to love us,
yet we refuse to give in.
We want people to stay in our lives,
but we don’t let them in.
We are demanding beings,
afraid of taking risks.
I keep telling myself that I deserve to be happy. That somehow, in this cage of loneliness, I deserve some freedom. Somewhere, in the middle of my journey to nowhere, I need to be found. I keep reminding myself that sometimes, I need to let people in. That sometimes, I need to open up and give chances to those who are willing to be my companion through this sadness.
I keep reminding myself to stop being unhappy, but I can’t. I can’t be free because I’m stuck. I can’t be found because I’m invisible. I can’t let people in because I’m surrounded with walls. I can’t have companion through this loneliness because no one wants to; no one wants loneliness in their life, no one..
There are so many guys who want her. But she wants him; the guy she won’t ever have.
Went to the book store only to find that the book Love and Misadventure is out of stock. This is so heartbreaking for me. Really. I badly want to have a copy of that book. I badly want it. Hays.