I’m uncomfortable. I’m wearing a pad. I hate wearing pads they fucking make me feel sticky and gross. They make me feel like a wet dish cloth sitting on the kitchen counter. Just sitting in its dirt. I want to shower. I’ve been using public bathrooms all day. I just wrote an exam. I just want to relax. I hate that all I want to do is be home. Be showered and comfortable. But whenever I’m home I can never do what I want. I can’t be with who I want. I can’t just chill at home with my boyfriend. So then in order for me to hang out with him, I go over to his place. Feeling completely uncomfortable and wearing clothing that I wore to go out and now would rather not be wearing. I’d love to be as comfortable as he is. He’s home. He’s happy. Everything he needs or finds comfort in is there. At home. Meanwhile I don’t get that. I don’t get to sleep even if I’m sleepy. Cause he falls asleep almost immediately, and if we both fall asleep, neither of us will wake up on time to do the responsible thing. So I stay up. Even though I’m just as tired. And I just wish I could sleep too. Either way I’m not happy. The whole time I’m home, comfortable, and cozy I wish he was there. I just hate this. I just want my own fucking space.
And then I just feel that at the end of it all I’m just being an angry whiny bitch. When I’m not trying to be but like I know how uncomfortable he feels whenever he comes over and it makes me feel even more uncomfortable being in my own comfort zone with him. I literally just can’t be comfortable and it drives me crazy.
Sometimes my favourite memory of being single is me just constantly feeling comfortable and just doing what I want without conflicting feelings all the time. When I’m with someone I love being around I’m constantly choosing between my own comfort and being with them. I literally can NEVER have both and it fucking sucks. It just makes me so bitter and envious. How come they can have it and I can’t? Why can’t I just fall asleep in your arms if I’m comfortable? If I do that I’m in the wrong
$13 later I uber myself home. I pay for the hotel. I pay my share for everything. But my share never comes to me without reminding. And it’s as if my efforts are forgotten. I just feel so out of control in my own life that I just get so fed up of everything. I’m also in a situation where I don’t have a lot of money and yet no one can ever give me a hand. It’s always me helping others. I need help too! I don’t just need emotional help I need financial help. Almost $500 in gas a month and I don’t even get to drive the cars half the time. Any time I’m in ANY car the tank is empty. And I want to help because they help me. But I hate recieving the help because I know the costs and I just can’t afford it. I know that dropping me home and picking me up and driving me around is going to cost ME. So I just do the affordable thing and just stay local.
Can’t afford a dinner out. Can’t afford shopping. Can’t afford just anything fun. Movies. Arcades. Casinos. Anything. I’m fucking bored and broke and fed up. I’m just tired of it.
All the turmoil and tension and fighting and bitterness and anger I have towards my parents. The stress it puts on me. How shitty I feel to have this type of straining relationship with them. I go through all of it because I want to break boundaries and have more freedom and it’s not an easy thing for me to go through. I do it to spend time with you. Only to have you fall asleep after agreeing I’d stay late and hang out. It’s just selfish. You’re just so selfish. You’re selfish and don’t even care. So why should I care? This year my resolution will be to be more selfish. I’m doing what I want. Maybe this is my “year two” reflection. I’m tired. Happy anniversary.