That's never how it's been with me. Sometimes I have had the experience of going up. Of straining and dreaming about making it to the top. That feeling of anticipation that... maybe... Maybe I am going to make it there! Make it somewhere, make it anywhere!
But that never lasts for long. Somehow I always end up right back here at the bottom. And it's not fair because somehow that fun part, that intense falling down. The wheeeee!! The yayy!! The rush... I never get it. I've never gotten it. Not any of it.
I don't know if I am a victim of circumstance. I don't know if I am at fault. I don't know anything. All that I know is that I am too shy. I am too nice. I am too afraid. I am too much of so many things. And I need to get away. I have spent so much time, convincing myself that I am on the outside looking in that I have never been able to get on the inside and do something, do anything.
I am painting my world, but I'm not using the right colors. I keep bringing in scenes from the past. I dwell on what the future might bring. I am just so scared of everything. I do not know what might be and what might never be. I continue to miss things that were never mine. I can't seem to grasp the concept that there is hope in my future.
It's so easy for me to cry and so hard for me to laugh, so painful to smile.