Do you ever have one of those nights where you lay in bed questioning yourself, the decisions you make, the friends you have, and the SO you’re with?
It’s strange how one insignificant conversation can suddenly make you over think.
Life can always be better it seems. If only this. If only that.
Since my grandma left, I feel as though my life has been a constant struggle to find myself. I was happy and then I wasn’t and then I was and then I wasn’t (repeat).
I guess you can say that I try to march to my own drum a lot now. If I want to do something a certain way, I will. I’m stubborn in so many ways, but make exceptions in so many others. I would like to think that I am pretty easy going. There are things I absolutely know I will never do, but there are a lot of other things that I would be more than happy to try. And that’s the way it should be right?
I know that there are aspects about me that frustrate people and it makes the “good girl” in me feel a little depressed. But when these aspects (no matter how tiny) make me feel happy, then who are you to take that away? Why can’t you be happy with me or for me? Maybe it’s silly/childish, but it makes me happy. Small things make me happy. If you got a problem with it, bring it up with me instead of going behind my back and talking about it with others. I’m not a bitch. I don’t lack the ability to compromise. /rant