Now, really...am I?
With all the things I do - and don't - how can I expect people to want to be with me, next to me, support me, love me.
Things said wrong, said right, said in-between. It's a wonder anyone - ANYONE - wants to call me, "friend."
Does anyone really want to call me that? I mean, really? My guess would be that it's more of a sad, pathetic tolerance, given who and what I've become over the years.
I've hurt so many: friends (words misused, misplaced, misunderstood), family (words used, placed, understood), D (all of the above - and he the one I claim to love).
I've lost contact with people I never wanted to leave (我的台湾
朋友). People I claimed to love. I haven't forgotten them. Not a single face. Not a single voice. Never. Yet, I have not spoken to any in so long.Not to mention, God. I don't remember the last time I really spoke to Him. How could I not talk to my Daddy for so long? He did so much for me, loves me so much, wants me so much...and yet, I ignore.
So, when I ask if I am really a good person, this isn't a pity seeking question. It isn't even a question I really wanted answered. I suppose it's a question I just want heard.
