Notes

I often worry about the future, and dwell on my past. I can't ever seem to live in the present. Maybe it's the mistakes I've made, or the mistakes I haven't made yet. I often wait for salvation, but all I'm left with is myself, waiting for nothing. No one has explained this to me. Growing up, all I ever did was wait. Wait for my family, my friends, and most importantly, love. But where has this got me? It's left me in the place I was before, but even worse. My friends are little to none, and my family is broken. Good grades can't get you anywhere without balance. I used to have much of that once. It however, all blew away, due to someone else's sins. Maybe this is what I needed. A wakeup call, perhaps. I sure as hell woke up after that incident. Paranoia became daily as I entered the environment of hate and backlash. Being ignored hurts, but not as much as being ignored, and only used for information for the other party. Some may say I'm worrying. And of course I worry. But this is not worrying anymore. This is factual. No matter how crazy I sound, I can only stay by my own word. Friends I thought were close quickly became distant, and I was left with a couple. I knew that that day would come. I waited my whole life for that day. Now that it's happened, I can't stop dwelling on it. It's funny really. I wait for a day to come, and as soon as it does, I worry about it instantly.
I can't please everyone. But somehow, I am left with this duty every time I open a conversation with them. All I worry about is their happiness. Are they comfortable with me around? Or do they want me to leave? Those two questions surface my mind every time I open my mouth. It's gotten so bad, I'll just plan out conversations with others in my head, so I don't have to talk to them in real life. Maybe that's for the best.
Someday, none of us will be here. My worries will be nonexistent. The people I've worried about, will be nonexistent. It will only be me, myself, and I left. All the pain will be gone, as if I'd never felt it. Pain hurts the most when you can't express it aloud. All I'm left with is a pen and paper, writing to no one. But as I said before, it's best my feelings are not shared. This will never be shared. It will only rot on my computer, so I can reflect on it later. Hopefully I've changed. I really hope I have. But until then, I will only continue to worry about change, and the environment I've been left in. This is goodbye, for now.
-Alexis Haynes