Rage or Sadness?

At my core, I’m sugary sweet and beaming with sunshine and rainbows. I’m kind and sweet and I’ll go all out for the people I love and I’ll even be kind to people I don’t know because honestly it’s just easier for me to spread mad sunshine. I am typically left feeling better and happier when I do kind things, say kind things and connect with people in a way that is meaningful and truly pleasant. Those types of interactions add value to my life and I don’t think I’ll ever stop enjoying that. However there is a part of me that can go dark, really dark and really vengeful when I feel like I’ve been wronged or taken advantage of in ways that were malicious and unkind. I have another side of me that is always on the precipice of spilling over into my every day but I keep that side of me at bay because it takes a lot for me to want to go there.

I sit here and I’m doing my hardest to process the feelings I’m feeling inside of me and I had to wonder, is it really rage or is it sadness? I think that partially it could be rage because I am genuinely really fucking pissed BUT I’m also a bit sad but not sad enough to cry. I am sad because I cannot believe that I circled back to the thoughts that I thought were dead and gone. I am sad because I allowed myself to see something that wasn’t actually there and I’m sad because I allowed my heart space to be compromised. I am sad because I let the closeness creep up and I let my guard down because I believe in people being their best and doing their best and I’m a believer in people honoring their word. Yet somehow we have this tragedy with my trust as the victim and a broken word and lack of communication are the offenders. Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?!!! I do not get whyyyyyyyyyyyy I am seriously back in this stupid fucking cycle. The craziest part of the whole fucking thing is that I was more worried than I was actually pissed. Ha ha. I was actually really concerned because in my mind there was absolutely no fucking way on earth that someone that considerate and kind would ever do what was done to me. Like nah…never…ever.

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I am constantly in the space of misreading and not realizing that I’m being caught in the crossfire of someone’s bullshit with themselves. I am not doubting sincerity, kindness, desire or any of that other shit. But I think that what I’m not accounting for is other people’s lack of connection with their own thoughts. I think that while someone may have a positive intention and have a strong desire to be one thing but their mind, physical body, thoughts and actions scream something else. I cannot workout how someone else processes their shit. I cannot even begin to imagine what it must be like to not manage my time and have none of it to give anyway. I cannot even imagine what it must be like to be so intensely pulled in ten thousand different directions, that you don’t even have the room for your thoughts to be coherent. It’s wack. It sucks. It makes life really fucking hard and while it’s hard for the person trapped in that body, it’s also fucking devastating for the people caught in the crossfire of that conflict. What is it about me that attracts people who are at war with themselves? I’m not conflicted about what I want and while I’m in the present moment with someone there doesn’t seem to be a conflict at all. Yet when we part ways, it’s far too difficult to figure out when the next time we speak is going to be. It’s like I gotta be a fucking emotional gangsta and turn my fucking feelings off after having a magic ass time. WHYYYYYYYYYY?!!?!!????????!??

These fucking emotions are too much for me to handle. I was wondering why I had insomnia and it was for this bloody reason. The too damn good of a fucking time only to be followed up by silence, lack of accountability and BULLLLLLLSHIT. I’m so fucking pissed and yet at the same time I feel mad compassion and empathy. I hate my emotions sometimes, seriously I really do. I want to not give a fuck. I want to break my word and not give a fuck. I want to be so wrapped up in my work that I don’t give a fuck whose feelings I hurt. I legit want to know what the fuck it’s like to be aloof and not give a fuck while pretending to give a fuck. I am so baffled by the things that people do and I would give anything to feel what giving ZERO FUCKS FEELS LIKE. I’m writing this and I’m shaking my head because I know how this will go. But I need to not let it go that way. I need to really cut my mother fucking losses and think about my god damn self. It’s not worth the loss of sleep, the worry, the concerns, the wondering, the pacing, the heart flutter, the hoping….NONE OF IT IS WORTH MY FUCKING SANITY. I AM SO MAD. I don’t even need to have a conversation, I don’t need to listen to apologies. I don’t have the fucking room for this cycle. My requests were made, my expectations were really fucking clear. I really only expect there to be a clear flow of communication, honesty, and integrity. I don’t want what you think I wanna hear. I want the fucking truth. I don’t want promises that cannot be delivered on…I just want to reality and the truth. That’s it.

But here’s my fucking truth. I am so done being nice, being kind, extending my goodness to people who don’t give fucks about me because they are caught up in them. Maybe that’s what was said but I heard what I wanted to hear. Welp the message is clear. I’m good. You good. We good. I’m just fucking done. 🖕🏾

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