Scars exist to remind us of what we are scared of. Maybe its a good thing, they keep us aware of the things that once hurt us, so we stay away from situations or people that will end up making us feel that way again but what we have to remember is those scars that once broke us, they dont define us!
I want this.
What is it to be alone? Is it to have no one by your side, is it to be in the place that has no people, no memory. Is it a blank page, a room full of people talking but all you hear is silence; it can be a dream, a nightmare, a joy. Being alone takes hold of you; it can be a trap, it can be home. It becomes comfort to a person, when being alone is the only way you can hide from chaos. To me it has become that cliché of comfort, of being the only way I can run. Run from everything that I can’t look back on, chaos. As much as being alone can damage you it also gives you the chance to at least try and move on from the things that make your life a leaded weight. It has come to show me that I am not the same person that I once was, is that a bad thing. I struggle to move on now. I just can’t get this out of my head even though I’m alone for the most part now because I choose to be. I guess the truth is I’m scared, I’m only holding on by a thread, I don’t think I could handle breaking that. The truth in the end is what I’m searching for, out of all of this chaos. I don’t think I’ll ever find it because I don’t think I have the strength, I just feel weak now.
About needing answers that never came
