the thoughts are coming back.
They are back to haunt me.
I feel guilt. I feel selfish.
My parents love and care for me so much.
How could I ever harbour such thought of leaving and hurting them.
The only thing I can do is cry.
There's nothing else.
Who can I tell?
Not my parents, I don't want them to worry.
Not my friends, I don't trust them enough,
or they don't actually care.
All along it's been me listening to their problems,
me comforting them. Me finding solutions for them.
But when it comes to me having a problem,
I don't see anyone there.
Yes maybe some are there.
But none will be there through it all,
for me.
I know I shouldn't bother others with my problems.
They have theirs too.
I know I shouldn't annoy them.
But I can't keep it all in.
There's always a limit to things.
I find no where to turn to.
I find no one to confide in.
Yes, there are people around me,
but I still feel alone.
//
But every time I say I would give up,
I end up getting through still.
And become okay again.
But the process is tiring.
It's really tiring.
Especially when you have to go through it on your own.
On your own.