What's there to be written

Have you ever given something to someone and then wished more than anything you could have it back? Because even though you gave it from the heart and it was honest you just feel like such an idiot.

Because it was honest and because it was from the heart should be enough to make such a gesture ok, but you just want it back to try to preserve some semblance of dignity. Because you thought that the not giving was worse than what the giving could ever feel like, but you were wrong because you just want to go crawl in a hole now.

When that thing was given the recipient was thankful and appeared to appreciate the gravity of the gift. But then they just disappeared. Because they don’t have room for you in their lives. Because you thought they were here to bring that one thing that has been missing for so long back to you, but instead just showed up to remind you of what was and then leave again. And during that moment of reverie, you trusted those feelings and decided to take a risk and be honest and act from the heart. But instead of feeling fulfilled and empowered by that risk, you instead feel embarrassed and mistaken. And you wish more than anything that you could be mean and angry, because that would at least be rational. Instead however, all you feel is empty.

But there I go babbling on again about nothing in particular. Just typing out the silliness in my head, knowing that it doesn’t make any sense but writing it anyway, because it’s there to be written.