One of Those Nights

It's going to be another one of those nights where I sit alone in my room and fight back tears. The tears that are inevitable because in the back of my heart, I want them to fall. It will help me feel better. I think. Of course, it doesn't eradicate the problem. It will always be there until I decide that I need to open my mouth and say what's on my mind. It just keeps piling up. Perhaps I'm nosey, perhaps I'm obsessive, perhaps I'm not what anyone thinks I am. I like to think the latter. But I don't change because changing isn't who I am. What if who I am is trying to be who I'm not? That can be a thing right? If who I'm not is who I am then I am who I'm not and who I'm not I am. I am not who I am and I am who I am not. I feel like a scene out of a Dr. Seuss book.

Recently I feel like I have discovered every pet peeve of mine. It shouldn't be a big deal but these things bother me to no end. I can't even justify them with importance because they are the dumbest things to upset myself over. But I can't change that they do and they will continue to bother me forever. Or until I decide to just say something about it.

Is it ironic that I'm listening to "Say" by John Mayer right now? He is telling me to "say what you need to say" but I just can't do it. I don't want to sound like a possessive, psychotic, crazy, insane, obsessive, needy, clingy, whiney girl, but maybe that's who I am. Love me for that instead of the quiet submissive girl I seem like.

Tears burn my eyes and I just want to break down, but my ego won't let me. Maybe this is a sign. I can't even cry by myself for fear of embarrassment or shows of weakness. Maybe somewhere down the line when I was feigning strength to avoid the spotlight, I actually became strong. Acting for so long made the performance real. This is exactly what I wanted, but I didn't count on having to realize the change. I don't want to have to be strong. I want to be happy and pain-free. I guess life isn't like that. I just wish I could find a way to say what's on my mind.

Just because I got better with a situation doesn't mean I'm over it yet. I'm just better at handling it. Secretly, it still bothers me just as much, if not, more than it always has. It's the fact that no one notices that I'm secretly writhing in pain that bothers me, but how would they know? The show is too good. I fool everyone. I blame myself for my own pain. I made too many mistakes that got me to this point in my life. I don't regret anything because the final product is exactly what I wanted. I just never considered the situations I'd be in.

I suppose I have no choice but to let someone see my horrible ugly side. That's the only way to get rid of the pain. I need to. All that's left is to hope that they can see past all of that and still love me for how I am all the time and, more importantly, for how I was when they met me.