...ever the optimist.

I can’t be honest with even myself; Did you even wish you were somebody else?

Tell me what your worst fears are; I bet they look a lot like mine.

See, I keep falling for the future after tripping on the past.

And I am always tearing sutures out to make the anguish last, like it defines me, or reminds me.

I’ve found comfort in my suffering, an uncertainty in happiness and death.

Because what’s next is such a mystery to me.

I am terrified of all the things I feel but cannot see.

This is horrible.  I’ve come back home for the first time in months.  All my friends and family that I missed are here, yet somehow I’ve never felt so alone and lost in my head.  This isn’t right.  It’s not even like I’m wanting to go back away, I just don’t want to be anywhere.