*325 - messy

Sometimes, it still hurts, and sometimes, I still secretly cry to myself. Whichever way I turn, I can't be at ease, I can't be without guilt.

I need to pour everything out to someone, everything, empty out all the foul nasty stinky pulpy sickening everythings, and still have that someone's arms wrapped tight around me regardless of everything yucky and everything hurtful, and still have that someone tell me that everything will be okay, that everything is okay, that I will be loved no matter what.

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.
- Matt 7:7

Lord, I'm asking, tell me what to do.

I think you're right - I think I think too much. Honestly can't quite remember what sparked off the above, and what I was ranting about. A culmilation of little things that were bugging me, I suppose.

A rather nasty episode, a good cry and a nice talk later, and I'm all right.

(: