I think my parents don't know how to deal with me, they think I'm some errant child. I hope not.
I don't understand why everything's so complicated. Why do I need emotions/feelings when they're only bringing me grief?
Is this part of growing up? Or will this constant unsatisfaction continue?
It just boils down to whether they bother or not. I think I'm slowly beginning to understand how I work, after living with myself for 17 years.
I know people care and they love me, I really appreciate that. But I'm just so unsatisfied that I'm not engaging them on a deeper level, one that will allow them to discover the richness that my mind/heart/soul holds.
I pray I do find someone on earth that I can share all my internal knick knacks with.
I do hate being so fucking emotional all the time, being on the verge of tears or fuming at any little thing. I wish I were a little more disconnected sometimes. Although I do know it is because of my deep need to be highly involved in everything I do, with every part of my being.
But being this emotional/sensitive sucks.
Oh just one more thing. I have no idea what love (in any form) feels like. I may have it, but I have no idea how to identify that.
Pathetic.
