I can remember being eight years old and having infinite possibilities. But life ends up being so much less that we thought it would be when we were kids, with relationships that are so empty and stupid and brutal.
Closeness to another person is like a fear of falling off a building to me. It’s really, like, physically painful, and it’s a brand of crazy I don’t appreciate having.
There’s people who think what they need and what they deserve in their lives is a lot worse than what they actually do, so they get themselves involved in things that are needlessly painful: brutal relationships, abusive relationships.
Over and over again in my life, I find closeness to other people and proximity to other people really painful; that’s part of my mental illness, social anxiety.
I think that, often, the people who can make you happy are right there, and having them in your life would make your life better, but you can’t see how to do it.
