That’s the problem when people know you so much because of only one thing, that’s the problem because even they knew you, they can’t seem to see everything that lies inside you and sometimes, they won’t believe you because of a certain thing you don’t always do and that’s well, shit. Blame them for knowing you so much and too much that they’re too blind too see everything right through you.
Is it too much to ask if I wanted to have another father? Is it too much to ask if I wanted him to change so bad so he won’t regret anything before he leaves us behind? Is it too much to ask if I wanted to have a father where I can share all my secrets to? Where I can cry on his shoulders when some bullcrap of guy breaks my heart? Where he can actually say that 'no one can hurt my princess'? A father who’s willing to take every responsibility he has, who’s willing to keep his family happy? Aren’t fathers are supposed to be the pillar of the house? the pillar of the family?
But as they’ve said, we are not perfect, all of us.
But if it’s not too much, if I had the chance, I’d change him, even if there’s only a short period of time left. I’ll be willing too. And I hate to say this, but fuck it, I’m so jealous with those person who has a father that they can lean on to, that they can depend on to, a father that they can be proud of.
And that’s the problem, I can’t be proud. Because we’ve fucked up too much, in many ways.
My biggest insecurity is when people actually have the life they wanted to live, when they freaking satisfied for what they’ve got, when they have this perfect family while I’m watching them have the life I’ve actually wished for so long. People may seem to judge me as a perfectionist or a dreamer or even a jealous person who can’t be satisfied for what they have, but aren’t we all? Aren’t we wishing for that some kind of family? Don’t we want to have that almost perfect life and no, I’m not actually stating for having a rich family where you can have anything, but a family where they understand each other, where they don’t leave anything behind for too long, where they forgive and forget and where there’s too much love that they can’t seem to get a hold of it so they wanted to share it with others, I wanted that life. So fucking bad to want that kind of life, so fucking bad that I’d do anything just to have that.
People chooses to be miserable because that’s the only thing where they can actually feel how to be alive, how to actually feel all the things crashing down in front of them, they choose to be miserable over to be happy because when their too much happy, it just all comes back to being miserable again, they will suddenly took away all the happiness. That’s why they stay being miserable and I wanted to be miserable
I always have my weakest moment, those moments that I’m too tired to say anything. How ironic that even in my weakest moments, alone, wouldn’t still leave me alone.
Sometimes blogging out your feelings doesn’t help, sometimes it gets worse, especially when you know you’re alone and people just ignore you and that’s too fucked up