I think we're connected. .

"Not everyone is your friend, and honestly A, you're too nice." He said, with nothing but genuine love and concern in his voice. He was right, I was as nice as they came, and as much as I tried not to be, this was who I was. "I just don't understand why people can't do for me how I do for them."I said. Truth is, I love hard, which is both my gift, and curse.. But I can't help it. I want to be loved, in the way, that makes people regard me in the same way I regard them. I'm just trying to learn to be very protective of my energy, and who I surround myself with. People tend to drain you, and if you're not careful, you won't even notice, until you're left empty.I struggle sometimes with letting go, and I want to get to the point, where I don't. Or rather where, I know who needs to go, and who should be allowed to stay.

I want my thoughts to be understood, and even if they're not comprehended right away. . I just want to be felt. I stumbled across my writing soul mate yesterday, and I'd be lying if I said finding her didn't inspire this post. I don't know her. .  But I feel her.  I believe in energy, and I feel like we're connected; I mean, aren't we all in someway, shape or form? Everything has a meaning, and every action and thought are all meant to happen. I needed to feel the depth, of her pain that poured out on all those posts. She wasn't afraid to effortlessly display the vulnerability of her truth; which like any other writer I've loved, sometimes brought real tears. It was as though her voice was meant to be heard by the masses of women that are just like her, but more than that, just like, me. Truth is, we've all been there.

Alone. .

Misunderstood. .

Wondering if anyone out there, will ever hear us. .

Begging for the thoughts to stop. . .

Wondering if the tears ever will..

Ever. .

Stop pouring. . .

Afraid that the fear of being alone,

will actually leave us, alone.

I've been there. .

Hell, I'm still there. 

I want to feel safe. I wonder what that feels like. To live my life, without the melt downs of the memories of everyone who's left.  So far gone; they never looked back, and at time's, I try not to blame them. After all, wasn't it I, who could never get them to stay? or who begged them not to? Couldn't they know, that was my fear getting the best of me?

I'm at a place now where I'm trying to stop needing to fill the silence, just because it scares me.

I need to give in to the noise, that are my thoughts.

I can't sleep in silence, because when I try,

I lay awake for hours, on end.

Thinking. . 

wondering. .

doing everything, but, sleeping. 

She wrote about this meditation app. . .

Thinking about giving that a try. .

Craving balance.

Imagining sleeping. .

In silence. .