Some cuts aren’t physical

I’m never happier than when I’ve divulged some piece of myself to the wider world and am waiting for the whole thing to come crashing down. Like a hidden and massive game of emotional Jenga. Dancing the line between salvation and despair.

Subconscious churning

I just had the realization that there are two more people in this world that I love. That I would do nearly anything for. This comes as a cascade really. One which reveals what I conceived as a bare handful turns into many more. Which isn’t to say that I am loved. In all likelihood, I’m not. I seem too distant, too different to fall into that category. Outside of immediate family and even then that’s questionable in cases.

I don’t even talk with most of them all that often. But I would remake the world if they needed it. It’s not the highest love I can feel but I’m not romantically involved with any of them.

For someone who has felt so alone for so long it is interesting.

Now if I could convince the few in whose presence I feel like I’m home, then I would be ecstatic. But I think too much cultural baggage stands in the way of even the attempt.