Summer has been overcast, if not rainy. It’s great. I can keep every window open, and the whole day feels like it’s a dew-soaked morning on the verge of a sunrise. It’s enough to make me believe that the real summer is never coming.
These days I’m still recovering, still learning to treat myself with compassion. Sometimes it’s a blurry line between that and procrastination. I don’t know how I feel about parts of my life, parts I never questioned before, and it’s a strange uncertainty to be carrying.
That means I don’t know how to act around most people, something I haven’t had trouble with since I was a kid. I’ve been avoiding most social contact, while spending time with the few people who know me well enough to hurt me. Sometimes it’s like walking on a tightrope, waiting to fall off. Everything is an exercise in vulnerability. Luckily, they’re the right people to help me through as well, the right people to put my trust into. This is how I learn to love again.
I’m learning to be selfish too, especially at a time like this. I’ve realized how important it is to be obliged to myself, instead of constantly putting aside my feelings for the sake of others. That means understanding what I need out of my relationships, instead of trying to make them what I thought they should be. Sometimes that also means making sure I spend enough time alone.
