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life self others archives


Overview


My name is Cady, welcome.


Click on me to go home; click on the pink words up top to navigate.
Leave a comment below a post if you're so inclined.
12.13.2012
I don't know what it is with me.

The people I love don't love me in return, the people I'd choose to spend time with don't choose to spend time with me, the people I want don't want me.

And then there are the people that -- well, I don't dislike them, but I don't want to be close with them. I don't want to know their secrets, I don't want them to know mine -- they are not people I want to stay up with all night and smoke on my roof.

Or - I want to be close with the people I used to be close with. But I've always been afraid that people don't like me as much as I like them. I occasionally feel like I'm that friend that everyone secretly kind of dislikes. Perhaps I'm just projecting onto myself - I have a couple of friends that I feel that way about. I just can't stop   empathizing.

I guess I wish I could just . . . keep people around. I think I drive people away, but I don't know why. Maybe it's my paranoia that makes me withdraw and then other people withdraw because of my withdrawal? I really shouldn't psychoanalyze myself.

Do people like/love/want me? I'm never sure.


As the sun goes down on a broken town and the fingers bleed in the factories, come on out tonight. 
Come and see the sight of the ones you love and the ones in love with you. 
Keep with me, keep with me, keep with me, keep with me.



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