and this old love

“I hate opening up… not because it’s hard to do… I do it all the time… I just hate doing it because… I…. I never feel like it helps me”
Actually it makes me feel worse.
Like when I’m spilling out all these problems I have,
all the things that make me think this world is shit,
I look into the person’s eyes, and know that they will just keep waiting for me to say more.
And keep saying more problems. More worries.
And nothing gets solved… I just keep talking.
And they keep listening.
Until I have no more problems to share.
nothing to shock them with.
And I just feel empty and “un-helped”.
Like I have just contributed to all the bullshit.


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