It’s okay, right? It’s going to be okay for you, and for me? It’s okay, right?Why is loving yourself that difficult? How do you handle your own thoughts? Sometimes I desperately need an embrace, a touch, and more than most of the times, all I get is dusted off, like a toy on shelf. A toy with warm cheeks. I really thought I had answers, & I knew something. People don’t think about you, especially not the way you would want them to. And it hurts, why does it hurt so much? So, so much. And I know it’s life, it’s rough and I am naive, but I don’t want hope, if it’s not you. I am not angry, just devastated.