Your twisted mind is like snow on the road.

Twenty One Pilot's first album is taking over my life.
I'd like to thank you for being my first real introuction to their music so long ago.
This one's about you.


I don't scare easily. Of inviduals.
Individual people don't scare me.

But you do.
You scare me.

Whenever we talk, without some sort of digital cloud buffered between keyboards, I flinch.

Not because you're going to hurt me. I know you're not the person that goes out of their way to hurt someone. I know you're not going to hurt me anymore. Both because that's not the kind of person you are and because I won't let you.

But because you have hurt me in the past. It's a reflex.

Anytime you open your mouth, I flinch. I'm terrified.

And I'm not saying this to villify you. You're not a bad person. You're not the villain in my life, I know that.

A while ago, in one of my posts, I talked about my baggage. And how I don't know if it's a snug backpack full of the essentials or an inconvenient carryon that you can't close the airplane luggage door on.

I still don't know.

But anytime I feel I've got one thing packed up and ready to dismiss, it's like I turned around and found another box I still need to pack. Over and over again. I've made progress in healing but with the mountain I still have to overcome it doesn't seem like it sometimes.

There's so much damage that I still have yet to even see, I'm sure.

And I feel like you don't fully realize that. And that's okay, I mean I'm not mad about anything anymore. There's no anger, only residual pain and habits and defense mechanisms I've built to stop what happened from ever happening again.

I feel like you haven't grasped exactly how much damage has gone both ways, and I'm sure I haven't either from your perspective.
And I mean, we never had a conversation about it.

And I'd like to.
I'd like to know what I've done and what I'd caused.
Because I don't want to do it again, to anyone.
And I'd just like you to understand what happened to me as well.
Not make you feel guilty, but I want us both to fully understand what happened to the other party.

So, if you're ever ready to have that conversation, I'm ready.
If not, that's okay.

I just want to assure you that there's no anger left. No bad blood. And I'm not making you out to be the bad guy. I did a lot of shit that I'm not proud of, too. Shit that hurt you. Really badly.

Have a good one. Talk to you later.