"Be unassuming. Otherwise, you'll cry."

What the figment of you would feel.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Whenever there's someone new, I feel guilty. It's I'm like dishonouring you. I feel obligated to consider what the figment of you would feel. 

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Meaningless weed extremely root bound in your flower bed of perfect people.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Me — i.e, jpenseur
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You can hate me.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Me — i.e, jpenseur
I'm afraid I'm slowly turning into a  monster. I have so much anger inside me that sometimes It feels like It will just burst. It feels like unexploded ordnance, buried in all my overthinking and unpleasant interactions. It starts as frustration and stays that way until I eventually find myself pleading for a solution. When left with silence, my frustration morphs into a vicious flame of anger. I become very sensitive; agitated by everything. I put on a smile even though I'm screaming in my head. I've been thinking about what has been fueling these flames, and I realized that it's everything and everyone that's been abusing my kindness. What makes me the angriest are the hypocrites who say they care for me but harm me all the same. My soul is deteriorating, and this anger and agitation have been its way of self-preservation. For the past week, I've had to choose between being around people and being angry or avoiding people and feeling lonely. My brain prefe...
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You make room.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Chinook pushing you away from where I want you to be.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
Whenever I see you, I'm called to do more and to be more in order to somehow pique your interest. To make you think that I'm a basket worth all your eggs. When we interact, it just feels so smooth and effortless, and I don't feel drained after conversations. When you speak, I can't help but admire you. I make an effort to listen even when my attention span is less than desirable; the net benefit for me just feels worth it. When you act all goofy, I want to just cover you in my arms. I daydream about how warm you would make me feel. I so deeply want to run my fingers along your hair and just take time to show you my affection. How wonderful would it be to be together? These, of course, are all just unrealistic desires. I know I can't be with you. There's just too great of a chinook pushing you away from where I want you to be. I do, however, appreciate that I can dream. 
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