I’ve been running away from THIS. But I guess my fingers are dragging me here, because after all that’s been done, writing is a huge part of me. I cannot just stop and forget, no matter how many times I tried. Obviously, I failed again. This is familiar. This is warm. This is comfort. Me and my words.
Every day, I come here. Reading the blogs these awesome people I followed wrote about their own ups and downs, own victories and defeats is a familiar routine I love doing. It feels like a part of my system. And it drives me back to where I know I belong. My temporary bubble of comfort popped and I am like a lost mist so confused where to go.
But my heart is here, and this is what I love doing. I can’t runaway when all I want to have is home. I might hit all the right points, but I also make no sense at all. And the comfort? The relief? The warmth? That’s what I found here. I can’t run away from the gravity of it.
I’m trying to close off myself, to avoid and to neglect. I’ve done that for the whole year of 2015 before. I thought I could do the same now, to try to stop myself. But look where it brings me. Still here, writing.
If being honest, I’m not happy with that decision. I’m going through a difficult emotional situation in which I decided to keep to myself. I am scared. But I also have to live. My life is worth living.
I was once told that my emotions are predictable and I’m very much readable for I wear my heart at my sleeves. It may all be true. Actually it is.
But you don’t know about me. So thank you, you could stop now.