I’m not sure how I feel.
Having told her I liked her a few days before. Today Godot asked me if I was truly ready for another relationship, during a conversation about how her last relationship made her realize that she needed to be better.
“I’m not sure.” I reply, not willing to lie to myself. “I feel like, what I want right now, is just someone to spend time with, someone to love, someone who loves me back, and find some stability, some place I belong.”
It’s late. I’m pretty tired. I don’t want to sleep.
I think, there are two of me. The happy me, the sad me; me during the day, and me after dark.
I want happiness, yet, I crave sorrow.
To me, given my past, sadness has somehow became the norm for me. Between the shitty relationships and sleepless nights, it’s become comfortable for me to feel sad. I used to justify this by thinking that without sorrow you can’t feel happiness. But I’m starting to doubt that.
“My my, my my, my. Give me love.”