I didn't realize that my words were capable of making someone else feel
the same sad things in the way I felt them.

I need to watch this.

Sometimes, on a whim, I want to stop living. Not in a bad way. Not in a violent, or depressed, or sad way.

Just sometimes. I would be okay not waking up. Sometimes I think I could lock myself in the car with a sweater over the exhaust in a secluded park, and listen to music, and just sleep. But I don't.

I won't.

I know how selfish that action would be, and there are people I love and have responsibility to. As long as those people are here, I will be too. There are things that I am wildly excited about.

It is not constant. I don't cry myself to sleep. I don't wake up sad. I so enjoy being alive, most of the time.

But sometimes my heart is full and it is at capacity and I just want to not feel so much all of the time. Sometimes I feel numb in response to being so, so filled.

Sometimes I am tired and exhausted, and I expressed this for myself after a hard conversation with someone I love. And someone else (I love) found this and her heart looked broken, and I knew I had done that to her-- and I actually had a panic attack seeing how hurt she looked, how scared. Knowing I caused this.

It is a bad habit, being surprised when I affect people. It is scary to know that people care about me because I'm not really sure why they do. Pleasant surprise, but surprise none-the-less.