"The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for."
- Bob Marley
I am a typical human being, having five fingers on each hand. I look at my left hand and realize with that one hand alone, I can count off all the people in Houston whom I trust in friendship. It's been one hell of a year, the sloughing off of worthless friendships, discovering (quite painfully, unfortunately) the fickle and cruel nature of the majority of individuals I once considered friends. Experience is a redundant teacher, yet I can't seem to grasp the lesson. People will disappoint, hurt and break me. Words are the worst weapon against me.
It's not I don't know this... it's that I hope so hard each time it's different. I hope this time this person will actually love me. This person will actually think before they speak, before they judge, before they make me cry.
My open heart is something I value and a part of myself of which I'm immensely proud. I'm going to let everybody in the world have the chance to hurt me because I can't be any other way.
I love Houston so much; I love living here, the vibrant culture, the bigness of it and the ability to start over.
I put down a deposit on an apartment today. I was doing rather well for myself: respectable career, home-owner, wife, etc... don't worry, I'm only regressing materially.
I'm sitting here on my bed, type type typing this up, two little pups curled up next to me, snoring slightly. Losing them is the hardest part of all.