The stupid things I’m thinking about texting you. Content Warning.
I was reading a journal entry from like six or seven years ago and saw the words “when do things stop happening TO you?” and, in that moment, I could see so clearly that thread pulled taut throughout time and space in my life. All the times that I’d half said truths, when I cracked jokes instead of answering the question because I didn’t want to admit I had something resembling a feeling for someone until five years later in retrospect. I think there’s dozens of reasons I’m so passive. That isn’t the point here. What I need is to put these things somewhere, in some form, where someone has to read them. I need to be different and stop staring idly at the clouds of existence as they go by.
