Has my life become about tiptoeing around my own dramatic tendencies and meanwhile suffering with trying to tolerate my loved ones' messes? Am I a just a tumbleweed whisping by quietly and accumulating garbage or am I a strong wind that picks up hot air and swirls into a tornado, collecting casualties as I go--cows and barns and such?
I much prefer to reserve dramatic response for positive use. Instead, I'm lit dynamite with a fuse longer than most realize. I don't think people have it out for me, I just think they're oblivious of the fact that I hold my discontent in so as to give them another chance. Take advantage of that chance and throw me around like I'll always stick around? Well, to put it simply...
I have greater feelings to feel, more joyful memories to experience, and more respect to gain. elsewhere. with someone else. Because I'm worth more than this, you ought to recognize.