So you think you know me?

Well, guess again.

All of those things that you think you know about me, they’re just a fraction of my twisted, intricate, broken, and damage inner life.

I honestly think my own parents don’t know me well enough.

We had the privilege of trying to get to know one another. We had some interesting conversations, some funny moments, and some ugly silences.

They’re all great, and I left them behind after days of waiting some sort of sign that you’re still there, keeping your promise. Yet, you never showed.

If you do know me, you’d know not to hang me.

So, I had to figure out how to re-arrange everything. I have to re-framing all those trails, those marks from the past years. I have to find new meaning in all of those words, those incidents.

In the mean time, I need you to know that I am fine. I am not great, but fine. I am not happy, but at least contentment is still within reach. 

Picture was borrowed from here.


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