To be honest, I’m just tired…
I’m tired of finding people and losing them…
Getting used to them… and watching them disappear from my life.
Tired of trusting and then being disappointed.
Tired of telling the truth when it is not heard.
I am confused about when to speak it and when it is better to remain silent.
I’m tired of sweeping out of my soul the fragments of my stupid, fragile love…
I’m tired of enduring the ups and downs from happy hysterics to howling into my pillow…
I’m tired of drowning in tears on the tiled floor…
Tired of hurting the people I love, getting angry over trifles…
Tired of feeding on empty hopes.
Tired of starting all over again.
Tired of the phrase “everything will be fine” when in reality nothing changes.
Tired of telling them how I am doing… because it won’t make them better anyway.
Tired of trying—people don’t appreciate a good attitude. I am no exception.
Come home. Turn on Agent… for some reason, hoping that this very person will be online. To write that I miss him, to wait for this person to write.
It’s just a human need to love and be loved. I’m just tired of sharing it with the wrong people.
I’m just tired of the cold in my soul and on the thermometer, of the bare trees outside the window, and of thoughts that are like bare wires… Plus, this temperature is still completely out of script… At such moments, I want to put myself to sleep. I’m tired.
