Love others so radically they wonder why.

If you make the person feel that you are doing something for him or her and expecting even a reaction of joy or gratitude from them...then it is being Selfish

Pattern recognition has always been one of my quiet strengths. people, situations, choices. patterns literally never lie. it's the fastest way to understand pretty much any and everything.

It's funny how they admire my ability to "read people." As if I wanted this. As if I didn't learn it from watching faces every day just to figure out if it was safe to speak, safe to exist, safe to breathe. It's not a skill. It's what happens when love feels like walking on glass. And you never know which step will cut you.

No one talks about how exhausting it is to be so observant. How you break your own heart a you just wanna tell little everyday from the tiny details you involuntarily pick up, and yourself that none of it is real but it's also you who's telling you that it is. So how do you trust yourself?

Never have I admitted to someone how terrified I am of being abandoned. I struggle so much with relationships because of my stupid apprehension but ironically, it always proves to be true, feeding into my doubts. I am a sad person afraid of getting attached to people because I know that they're going to leave me and I will struggle a lot while they move on as if there is nothing wrong. I will miss them, reminiscing the times we had spent together because they can't abandon my memory. I will sit in a corner, wiping my eyes full of tears, but there will be no consolation I can offer to myself. Perhaps I will rise again and find good people but the cycle will continue; with everyone taking a partikes of me while they leave, there will come a day when will no longer be I. Imprisoned in this familiar bod 4 won't be able to recognise myself.

My sorrow isn't isn't poetic, it's metastatic a malignancy dressed in metaphors just to keep the knives from noticing they've already been swallowed.

The truth is I am capable of standing alone, growing alone, surviving alone but my heart never wanted it that way

I have a terrible habit of setting myself on fire to see whether I burn enough to provide them with the warmth I never received. yet, I'd still refuse to believe that I don't deserve the pain, because I was taught that the more I burn it all into ashes, the more it'd resemble love'

It's not that someone took your place, but your place is no longer yours.

Isn't it funny. I'm enjoying my hatred so much more than I ever enjoyed love. Love is temperamental. Tiring. It makes demands. Love uses you, changes its mind. But hatred, now, that's something you can use. Sculpt. Wield. It's hard, or soft, however you need it. Love humiliates you, but Hatred cradles you.

Forever destined to give brilliant advice to others while ignoring your own best tips, accidentally becoming the group's unpaid problem solver, and attracting oddly specific inconveniences

I fake a lot of emotions and I think I fake them well