Today I made the lady on the customer service line laugh.
It wasn’t until I heard her laugh that I was able to smile today.
I think breakups suck. I think if we gathered all of humanity together we could all forget our differences by sharing our tales of heartbreak. We could all realize that no one is safe from it.
It’s a turmoil I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. That’s how much it can hurt.
This “breakup” doesn’t hurt as much as the one before did. Of course it feels as if it does because I’m however many miles away from home and as much as we hate to admit these things to ourselves, being around people of a similar background is just comforting. You don’t have describe why you feel a way or how it’s normal to feel a way back where you come from. You don’t apologize for it all getting “lost in translation.”
And, of course, it’s made even harder by the 45min train ride back home spent in tears. The tears that you just can’t stop. The tears you want to apologize to everyone around you for–but realize the fact you aren’t doing the whole hyperventilating kind of crying you really need to do–so decide they should be ok with a few quivers a few seats away.
My friends and family keep telling me it’s not me. It’s just life.
But how is it not me, whenever the common denominator in all of my relationships has been me?
Riddle me that, batman.
Ok, say it is me.
The reason I am typically the cause?
Because I “care too much.”
It’s a funny thing, this whole caring too much ruining everything.
But if I’m remembered as “the girl who cared too much*” that isn’t so bad.
*And let’s not confuse caring for overbearing. Hand to Heaven, I worry so much about being “clingy” that I become the exact opposite. So it’s all a bit weird.