I started a blog n it made mi become a happier person. It was my own space where I write bout my feelings. When I got sick of letting my feelings in virtual space, I started longing to tell my feelings to an actual human being, one hu cld respond, empathise n understand.
Den one day sth hit mi so hard I started a diary. Those handwritten kind. In the middle of the nite I wld write, in my dimly lit room, afraid my parents wld wake up n find mi awake writing.
When I got hit, I realli felt I had no one. No space. No where dat belonged to me.
It just hurts me so much when I think to myself wat I haf done wrong. Its not the times when I can convince myself I m wrong dat hurt, it is those when I cant. The love I wish wld be showered on mi; maybe I shd haf realised a long time ago dat wldnt happen to mi. The truth is, I did realise it, n forced myself to come to terms wif it, but I guess I nv realli accepted it. Deep in my heart, I still long for dat love I once had. Or maybe I dint haf it b4 u noe, since obviously I was not right n shdnt haf done alot of things which I had.
So mani things. So mani times. Not once. Not once haf I heard a sincere apology.
Maybe things became better n I let things get above my head. Not dat I havnt learnt my lesson b4, its just sad dat I got to learn it again.
I am Missy Rissy.
I believe in living the world, n living your worth.
I want to be happy more than anything else.
I want to be who I am.
I am who I am.
