I don’t want to be anything other than what I’ve been trying to be lately
All I have to do is think about me and I have peace of mind
I’m tired of looking ’round rooms wondering what I’ve got to do
Or who I’m supposed to be
I don’t want to be anything other than me
Ok... mini status update. It’s been 6 months. At first I wasn’t sure of who the heck I was or what I was doing or how I was ever going to make it. (Upheaval in your life, especially the kind you don’t expect, is rough, but it happens. I’m not the first person to ever have been betrayed and had their heart broken, it just felt like that for a while.) But, you know what? Somewhere in the middle I figured it all out. I’m still stressed about the house, but I think I finally have an idea of what the heck I am doing and where I am going and who I want to be. And I *know* I am better off. I know it was the right choice for me.
Now when I go out, I don’t have that constant nagging, worrisome feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I’m being eaten from within. I don’t second guess when someone asks me to do something. I don’t feel like I am cut off from friends and a loner. I don’t feel like the person I love is slowly trying to break me (maybe not intentionally) with comments and criticism. I feel connected and loved and happy.
Yes, this whole debacle has changed who I am and how I look at things, but I don’t think I’m bitter because of it and the scars aren’t so bad. I guess they just add character.
Consider this me, closing the book on this chapter officially. I can’t say it never existed, but I can say it’s done. Goodbye.