The significance of every rejection felt like the first

Every time someone rejects me, in however insignificant a manner, for the rest of my life, I expect I will get flashbacks of you.

Nothing is insignificant anymore.

And tears come far too readily.

I don’t remember being this fragile.

It’s not your fault, it’s me, chemically, this must be how it is from now on.

And I don’t want to admit defeat.

But how can you stay positive with tears rolling down your face, at the slightest of mishaps?

It’s not even a question of admitting defeat, it’s being unable to change the way you are feeling when you are inexorably miserable.

Perhaps if we take a moment look at this ultra-sensitivity from a positive stance, I suppose, at the very least, it cuts out the bullshit.

But oh what a painful way to avoid a little bullshit that would likely cause no lasting scars, and in doing so, leads to more.

One thought on “The significance of every rejection felt like the first

  1. I found it hard to hit “like” on this. I must say even though it is laid out like a poem, it feels like a scream. I am so sorry….in my imaginary world, people like you would be running it….but the trouble is, your real world is hellish and hard, and I am really sorry, truly. You are one of the real spirits here….and I hardly know what to say.

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