Hurt

Everyone I know knows I have “problems”. I’d rather they know than not but the problem is then you have to define “problems” and I don’t know quite how to do that.

I can tell you I’m angry with my parents and you can nod your head and sympathize but when you ask why I can’t tell you that, I really can’t tell you. And, even then I can’t tell you why I can’t.

I can tell you I feel sad and don’t really know the why of anything anymore
but I can’t tell you why I don’t know the why. And, I want to tell but I can’t.

Because sometimes specifics hurt just a little too much.

Because it’s one thing to say I fought with mom but it’s another to tell how I slammed the car door and I walked inside crying and you wouldn’t answer me no matter how loud I screamed. And how I threw curse words across the house and hated myself for doing it because I didn’t even know if I was screaming at you or at me and either way I didn’t know why I needed to scream so badly in the first place.

Yeah it’s one thing to say I feel like crying it’s another to tell you all the reasons why. Because sometimes I don’t even know the reasons and other times I do . . .

But like I said sometimes specifics hurt just a little too much.