I think I’ve finally reached that limit. The limit where you know you’re going to explode. I sound so dramatic and pathetic. I’ve finally reach that bottom that I’ve been running away from this whole time. I know I’m there because almost every minute I ask myself, “where am I? What am I doing here? Who am I?”. I’ve ran away for so long. I want to start a new. But that’s the thing, would that be consider running away? Sometimes I wish I would forget everything. I wish I can fall and keep falling until someone catches me. My feelings is a storm, always raging. Always mysterious. Always waiting strike.
I want to confess everything. I want get everything that I’ve always wanted to say finally off my chest/shoulders. It’s going to hurt. But I know, things happen for a reason. If things are meant to happen, they will happen and I’ll let it come.