There is some sort of hero complex in me that I have never fully acknowledged. Maybe it’s a potential I see, maybe it’s this notion that I am being used for a greater purpose in a particular circumstance, but whatever it is, I gravitate towards it. Instinctively. I’m not going to lie, it’s a tug-of-war between selflessness and selfishness. Selfless, for obvious reasons, and selfish,  because sometimes I need to tell myself I need to step away. I am exerting too much effort in something that will remain indifferent. Some people are okay with that. At the end of the day, I’m not. Never have been, never will. 

I will not do my heart a disservice by justifying and compromising what I actually want, and what I hope is one day available to me. I’ve done it time and time again, and it’s only left me battered and bruised. The heart is always whole, I know what makes me complete, but there are scars and stitches for a reason. They are a reminder to always listen, listen, listen. 

Recent life situations as of late only prove that I know my value, and I must be a stand for it.

At the end of the day, a little disappointment is nothing compared to knowing I chose to ignore myself. 

I’ve spoken my piece.


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