I’m tired. I’m running out of energy, and I know that this is only a temporary thing, but sloth mode is not really my favorite.
I’m really excited about things happening in the future, and really I’m more than content with things happening in my present, but it’s like I have nothing to talk about. It’s like I have nothing to write about. Though I am writing a lot. I’m just not writing the things that I used to be so excited about. I’m not stagnant, but I’m something?
I’ve pulled away again. But I’ve pulled into who I want to. It’s just really hard to express these things without being heard. I cannot be heard. Not yet. Not now.
So I’m out of ideas. My life is so good, but also, I feel so rough. It feels so hard to celebrate. It feels so hard to go on living a normal life, as if nothing is missing. Everything might be missing. Or maybe not.
I wish there was a way for me to share who I am. I wish there was a way to be genuinely known. I think I want to learn more than vulnerability. I think I want to learn how not to have walls. Yes, protection is important. But intimacy can be so secure in safety. I want to find that safety. I want to know what safe really is.