An outlet

It hasn’t even been two weeks and my new year’s resolution has already failed. I thought I’ve gotten over it but forgiving myself have proved to be impossible. All my life I’ve lived so carefully, almost to the extent of failing by default. Why must the only unforgivable oversight I’ve ever made be the worse one too?

They say the kindest people are the happiest ones. If so, why then do I find this empathy to be such a burden? The only thing holding me back from attempting to salvage my depressing situation is the knowledge that rectifying it would cause inconvenience to others.

I didn’t know what I was so upset about until now. Apparently it wasn’t just the inability to put the past behind me. But also, the furious indignation that mean demanding people can have it all while nice understanding people can only suffer in silence.

Heartache Ingredients:
Tracing-paper skin

Giving up means hurting myself, not doing so means troubling others. I don’t want to be disappointed again, too. Twice is already enough damage to my pulmonary system. A third might just burst an artery.

Either way, it’s suicide.



2 thoughts on “An outlet

  1. Your thoughts sound like my thoughts, honestly, in many ways.

    I’m bound to break some of my resolutions as well (in fact, I already have!), but I think a good thing to do is to keep setting goals throughout the year.


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