I steal things…

I steal things.  But only from people I love.  So, if I’ve never stolen something from you, it just means I don’t care about you…hehe.

Seriously, though, much truth in the above statement.  If I were tracking my history and trying to find patterns in my life and neurosis and behavior and see “why” I do such self-destructive things, I probably could trace it back to some point when I was a very self-conscious introverted child.  But, I’m not writing that story anymore.

In fact, I’m not even writing the whole stealing thing into my story.  I’m not even wondering why I’ll feel a need to steal something so small from a friend–something he or she would mildly notice but be also only mildly fazed by.  And I could say something like a part of me actively seeks out a need to feel guilty.

But, lucky that is not a part of my story anymore.

Wow!  That feels amazing to not have that be me!  Who is that?


About heathencomehome

question marks & ellipses
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