sometimes.

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sometimes you sit around and it seems like the world is passing you by.
sometimes it seems like everyone is living their life and you are stuck on pause, or even rewind. Or, worse yet, STOP.
sometimes you want to scream at the top of your lungs, but you know that nobody would hear you or care.
sometimes you feel lost at sea, and you're on land, in an office.
sometimes you think that you are all alone, and most days, you feel it.

Sometimes.

other times you try to muster the words to say how you feel, but you come up short.
you try to capture what your heart is feeling, and words don't do it justice.

sometimes everyone seems to not hear what you are saying when you talk, and it beats you down.
sometimes there is a dark cloud that seems to be looming over you, even when the sun is shinning down.
sometimes you feel like you made a big mistake, and you don't know how to change it or if you ever could. you wish you could go back in time and never take that leap and stay content, knowing you had it good then.

isn't it funny, the good ole days don't always seem like the good ole days until you are out of them and over the hill looking down on them.

life's just like that.

most times you walk around and nobody knows that darkness around you is there. nobody knows that what they are really seeing is a mask.

most times that mask you wear is good at hiding the sadness, the hurt, the betrayal you feel, the utter life in shambles. and, sometimes, you start thinking the mask is the real you.

and then there are those times that you can't help but let it all out. you can't help by cry at your desk because you feel as though you are completely unnoticed, underappreciated and lost.

you dream up moving far away and what all that would encompass.

you talk about how you are really feeling and then slowly realize that people don't want to hear that. people want to hear you are "fine" or "okay", worse yet "great!"... even when you aren't.

the truth scares people. the truth that you are struggling and hurting and feeling smothered by yourself is hard for others to take. so, you sit there, silently, screaming inside of your head for someone to notice. for someone to just listen and not expect anything back from you in return.

you long for that day where you won't feel that way anymore.

until then, you wait. you wait silently, and pretend this is just a phase, or a season of life.

what does that even mean? As far as I knew there were four seasons. it seems like I have gone through about 97 in my lifetime, and I am not yet 25. who knew 24 was so tough? not me. who knew you wouldn't feel adequate in so many levels? who knew all of those levels were even there?

not me.


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