I spend a lot of time waiting for things to happen. My over involvement with others is unhealthy and does not equal love and care.
I am unique. The damage is invented; you suffer from the disease of perception.
On the plane ride home from Puerto Rico I had a panic attack. The pilot said we had to reroute to the Keys, the Florida Keys. Too much rain; much too much wind. Instead we circled, an extra hour in the sky. I read a collection of short stories and cried. I didn’t comprehend what I was reading. I cried and the couple next to me had just gotten married. The woman wore jeans and an oxford and the man wore sweatpants and a polo. They were tan and exhausted. The wedding had been on the beach. I wanted them to ask me if I was okay.
I want things to come easy for me. That is why I stop sometimes.