...

we were sitting on your couch
while you had a grin in your cheek pouch
tried to hold your hand
and you said, maybe we are really bland

Freedom? Free? The meaning and want for this has always been strange for me. 
I have thought of it as a privileged living and a prerequisite for love. But today, freedom sounds like cutting strings from another. Their wills, choices, and helplessness, cannot draw who you are, what you stand. 
Freedom is from a liberalised living, financial independence and sustenance. 

The older I get, I realise that most times, it is better to let people out of your life, than struggling for them. I have feared to be bound, limited, dependent and vulnerable to people, all my life. Perhaps, that's why I don't fight for having and keeping people in my life.

Loving is hard. And it hardly works. You try to sustain yourself or choose to leave before it hurts. You just avoid the hate to slip in those cracks of your timid brain. You prevent collapsing of that lifeless heart. 

I tend to shut my door, my heart and turn music up, when I am overwhelmed with such emotions. I try not to listen, not to hurt, not feel dead enough.
  
I push people away before I hurt them or leave before I get left. I drag and hide that vulnerability. But then you don't protect your heart by acting like you don't have one. You cannot wreck yourself or humiliate yourself in the ruins. You need to carry what burned you. 

It's been a while, I have been stuck in a jungle of wanting the dependency. 
Hoping that someone would help me open the door. Loving me, definately isn't easy. But I am alive with that, killing myself over fitting in. 

But, when I wonder if I ever would need love. I think that any emotion for another person, cannot be that strong that it ruins you. 
And if it does, then maybe I don't need another ruin for this heart. The heart perhaps doesn't decide what it wants.

Today, I want to thank everyone who didn't show up, or turn up, or picked me up, when I called for them. It was for you all that I found myself, wounded and bleeding, but I did find myself.

Now, I am my storyteller.

...