I sometimes wonder how different my life would be had I not moved so much as a child. Met so many people at such a young age. Did adult things when I should have been truly living as a kid. I think about these things, but realize it’s a waste of time. It’s a waste because yesteryear is just that, and all I have is right now. I can’t change the past, and frankly, I don’t want to ‘fix’ my floater tendencies. I think it makes life worth living, and that’s saying a lot coming from a person that spent most of her life not wanting to be alive. I know the people dearest to me want to see me happy, healthy, and thriving. However, I acknowledge that they’ll only want it in a way that makes sense to them. I’m afraid I’ll never make sense to them, nor will my life. They’ll continue to lament to me, seeing a problem that doesn’t exist in my eyes. Call it ignorant bliss, I suppose. I just like to call it life. I can plan my future until my brain gives out, but that plan doesn’t guarantee 'success'. Nothing guarantees anything. Instead of worrying about where I’m headed when it’s taken me this long just to appreciate life, I wish they could guarantee me unconditional love instead.

I'm Tired, You're Angry, and Everything Looks Blurry
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