There’s nothing really like becoming comfortable with being alone. To have that feeling that it is ok when no one’s there for you or around you.
And that you have a smile on your face because you are on your way home and you remembered there’s a piece of chocolate waiting on the table. It’s all about the small things.
I do love people, I really do. But they don’t always like you being yourself. Maybe this is what happiness means? Knowing you can be yourself, be silly and awkward, and actually seeing nobody leave because of that. At the end of the day, it’s about the people you wish to stay.
Everyone talks and writes about being yourself, following your heart, being kind. I just don’t see their actions living up to their words.
Actually, when it comes down to it, almost no one cares or even will reject you in a way or another. Kindness… true kindness for me, is when you try to make someone smile, while you yourself are down. Staying kind despite people around you keeping “punching you in the face.” ‘Cause everybody knows, but nobody really knows…
