Yesterday was a day of rest (although today -should- be, eh.)

For “H,” and Honesty.

I hate that people still treat me like I’m fragile, as though if the wrong things are said or done, I’ll break, won’t recover, can’t recover, just -can’t-.

I hate that my failure is an expected factor in my life, throughout my life, because “I’m Special.” People say and use the word “Special” to describe me, I find this often chaffing and distasteful. Said people don’t know me, don’t invest real time in me, they are -nice- and polite, but really? Please.

Try actually -listening-. Try being invested in something, try giving a shit.

I find that being honest, being grateful for honesty is knowing that there are things which you can talk about, things you see and dislike or like, but never feel the need to confront or antagonize, because you pick your battles, because you’re specific about it.

Because disabling your hate, all the time, isn’t so much a bad thing as it is a necessary thing when you’re surrounded by people that -don’t get it-.

[I can tell you how much I dislike you, how little your gossip and your stories mean for me, to me, but I smile and I listen; I pretend because it makes you feel good, important. I do this because I know you aren't happy. Listening, having or knowing that someone is there, interested, seems to help, so I do. In the world, there are so many other things I'd rather be doing, other things than this, but you know, I like to think that having this moment here with you, might in some way afford me some grace, humble me a bit and give me a piece of insight about myself and maybe you, I've either ignored or just been oblivious to before. It's only time; and patience, well I'm working on that too.]

You’re gone, all of you.

My closets are cleaned, purged, and it’s good, I feel like what’s left of ghosts are just lingering fingerprints.

I’m angry at myself, and only me, for letting too much of who I am vanish through all of this.

The next mountain I climb will be myself, and it will be amazing.