The Warning Label You Forgot to Read

the-warning-label-you-forgot-to-read

It all comes with a price.

They don’t tell you that at first, they make it seem glamorous, a world filled with nothing but peace. But there is always a price to pay with happiness.

There’s a lot of guilt. So much guilt that you try to ignore but it’ll creep up on you in the middle of the night when you least expect it. Surprisingly it doesn’t really bring down the mood, it just leaves a nasty aftertaste.

You’ll get some disapproval too; whether it be your parents (even worse, your mother), people you consider friends, and sometimes close confidants. They’ll mask disapproval with words painting a perfect world in which you are protected and loved. Really, they wished you would live life a little differently.

I am the bad guy. Plain and simple.

I didn’t know you could overdose on joy and here I am sitting in the sick of the mess I have created. My only offense, choosing myself for the first time; I had let myself forget about others.

No wait. No I didn’t, I always remembered others. I wouldn’t feel the guilt if I didn’t.

I know in my heart that I always tried to put others first, that I pled my case to judgement and they gave me the OK. But, I get it. It’s easier to be the victim and I wish I could somehow twist this all and make it appear that I am without fault .

But I can’t, and I won’t. I have apologized over and over again and I will do it no more. I am happy. It does come with some side effects but I have people in my life that can help me. No matter how acidic the aftertaste appears to be it does not hold a candle to the glow inside of my heart.

The ache of my cheeks from smiling or the urge to giggle at the most random things. I am floating, my hands are restless and my eyes reflect the sky as I’m only looking upwards these days. And I’m drawing, I wake up early in the morning and just doodle whatever comes to mind in the misty haze of sunlight. I am clear headed and optimistic. I am not the monster of this story, maybe I am in others’ but not this one.

This is my story. I will write the narrative and set the standards of who truly shows me they want to be a part of it.

They forget to warn you because you have to learn on your own. 

-one girl

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