pt 2, or, please?

I did not regret anything until people began to reprimand me. I feel like the only moral compass which should matter is my own and that others should not affect me. Yet this afternoon I walked my dog and asked myself hard questions. I didn’t ask them, really, the world asked me.

Would I have regretted staying home more? Yes. Because I don’t regret my actions, just some later effects. I am so sick of not-doing-things regret that it will always, or for a long time at least, be greater than doing-things regret.

How many hearts broke? Not just last night, but in the past weeks? How many hearts have I broken? How many times have I let my own break? Too many. I am afraid of causing cracks in my mother’s heart and making them grow. I am afraid of making my summer boy stop loving me.  I am afraid of making tuberculosis stop loving her. I am afraid to keep loving her, and I am afraid that I am not lovable in a practical way.

Am I turning into something I don’t want to be? Am I the girl outside the sexist liquor store trying to find someone to buy her pink champagne, the girl that nobody likes anymore? I am not. I am far, far from that. I am healthy and happy and safe and I have friends.

Is one night worth the words and thoughts of disrespect and disappointment that people I love are giving to me, or would give? I think that they will love me anyways. I think if they stop then something will be wrong. But there are faces in my mind, one two three four five faces, and they are looking at me like I am a child who doesn’t understand.

I am a child who doesn’t understand. I do not understand why nothing lines up or makes sense, easy with good or with fun, love with happiness, it isn’t working the way it’s supposed to. I just want love to happen and laughter to happen and friendship to stay and I want it all to be easy.

I want a lot and I need a lot and I am dysfunctional, and my power-ranger girl, I am so, so sorry if this makes you tired but it is TRUE and I would rather be open and try to make things better than hide everything the way you do so that nothing can heal except by going into another world.

I LOVE YOU. YES YOU. THANK YOU FOR CARING.