I was told I’m not caring enough–no, delete that. To be exact, I don’t know how to care for someone. Reflecting back, it is pretty true. It’s not that I don’t care. I do care–a lot. I’m just so used to others caring for me and me not having to actually do anything because people have never said anything about it. No one has ever said to me straightforwardly that I don’t know how to care for someone properly. Until recently, of course. I used to be so… what’s the word… maybe heartless? Well, I used to be something like that. I’m slowly starting to realise that maybe it was my own way of protecting myself from being hurt, from feeling anything when I would be forced to separate from people.
Growing up, my parents act and do everything in their life according to their past. They both see life as something to be cherished every single day. If you don’t, you’ll lose it. That’s what I’ve been taught and brought up with.
Hmm. I need to sleep. There are times I don’t know how to act because I over-think the consequences and every aspect of my actions. But at the same time, I need to spend more time caring for those who care for me. I need to learn how to do that instead of just throwing them aside. Though, granted, I’m not as bad as some people but I need to do my best not to disappoint the ones that are most important in my life–my parents. I can’t compare myself to the people that bring anger to me and simply be satisfied with being better than them. Nope, I just can’t.