the first time you holded my hand
You know one of the most expensive things you could ever do is pay attention to the wrong people.
I’m actually extremly grateful that some things didn’t work out the way I once wanted them to.
I am sorry because I’m happy?
I am sorry because I am starting to do what I want? With who I want? When I want?
I’m sorry because I am trying my best not to fall in depression again?
Fuck you, and fuck everyone who made me cry because I chose to be happy.
It was nice you texted me when I needed to see clear. Thank you.
“I want living. I want a full life. I want to go to parties again. I want to meet people. I want to build friendships, really strong ones. I want laughter. I want to meet the most funniest people on earth. I want hope. I want to go to my dream city. I want to go to school and not wanting to kill myself just at the thought that I’m going to be surrounded by people I don’t have a connection with.
Maybe this is what I’m really looking forward to: connections. To people, to towns, to places, to earth, to love, to sex, I want to feel 29 days happiness and maybe 2-3 days pain. This is how it was. More good than bad.
I really want to be happy. And now I realised how important is to actually feel happy. Isn’t it sad when you haven’t been happy for so long, you miss it?”
I’m still getting used to the fact I’m not in the place I want to be.