I feel empty and full, yet empty but so very full.
Today, I concluded my activities of internship and so many little moments are important to register and keep in my memory that I had to write them down several times.
and so many little moments are important to register and keep in my memory that I had to write them down several times.
Praise and so much else was given.
Why don’t I ever believe in myself ?
Why, good, even after being told my work is really
Why, good, even do after I being still told doubt my it work ? is really
Walking closer to the train,
there are tears emerging from my eyes of their own will,
not because I was leaving, but for what this step meant in the greater plan that is this year.
Somehow my mind keeps travelling back to a moment in the 11th grade;
It was the week after my grandma passed.
I had to skip school to attend her funeral and my friend told me later that I was missed, that I made a difference in her day.
Today, I felt the exact same way as I did that day almost seven years ago. Maybe it’s all I need, to be wanted, to make a difference in other people’s lives.
How terrible it is to be broken and a trained psychologist at the same time
and how hilarious it is to be a writer on top of all that.
I don’t understand why I think so poorly of myself when other people think so greatly.
Why can’t I see in the mirror what they see in me?
My bones feel the kind of tired that no amount of sleep could ever restore, I’ll take it to the grave.
And they ask me ‘Come to the bar and tell us about your last day’,
but there’s a buzzing in my ear that won’t go away
and my eyes are puffy from all the crying.
But they are my friends, so I will go and cry with them instead.
I understand it now, why I’m mourning. My third life is coming to an end. I’m dying again and it’s no easy business but I have to go
I deserve the life we’ve been building for the past years.
P.S. Never trust a person that skips book prefaces and intro songs.