cacophony Plant a tree. Build a house. Write a book.
Is it because I think that I’m undeserving of being in a relationship in which I am, in fact, loved? Why do fights start so often, and why can’t I let details roll off of my shoulders? I can’t let go of anything. Everything has a meaning and therefore every last detail has a consequence; a derivative plot which is always ultimately working against me. Why do I always feel that I must inevitably pale in comparison to his past, to the sordid ghosts? Some which are so much more present than I would ever dare to consider (or else go crazy). I don’t know if I’m cut out to ever be in a functional relationship. Maybe not. I hope so badly that I may be able to one day.