Indeed, this is how it starts

I've come to expect nothing of my life. It is a sad thought at times that I will accomplish nothing, be nothing, love nothing, be not loved. These things could be a cause for such a spiral of depression as I could not climb out of.



I refuse to be that person. I want to live, it took a long time for me think so...but it is true, despite what my life looks like right now.



I want to live. I want to finish what I started, I want to accomplish something, be someone, be with someone and love them with reckless abandon and be loved in such a way as well.



I could not describe my life to you, how it was, how it is, how it will end. I do not know that one could fully comprehend the thoughts and feelings of another, especially someone they do not know.

I fear you would laugh at me. I fear you would shun me, turn away from me in my vulnerability. Shut me out of your life as you would someone who betrayed you with emotions and words and actions.

And yet, this fear is unfounded for I do not know you. I don't know how you live, what you do, who you love, who you spend your time with. I do not know your favorite food, movie, actor, song. I do not know what it is you fear when you wake startled in the middle of the night. And yet...it matters to me to be vulnerable to you, to show you windows into my soul that no one else would ever see because I cannot show anyone else.



Because, we will never meet. I will never look into your eyes and see your disgust, adoration, understanding, your pity or your sympathy. We will never know eachother.



This works for me.



I need an outlet. Somewhere I can write the things I think and feel, the things I see, the places I go.

Yes, I keep a leather bound journal. That is an outlet...but for some reason I need to expose myself to the internet. Lay it all out there in sweet anonymous detail.