TL ; DR? Stream of consciousness

After seeing me writing in my diary at a million miles a minute on numerous occasions, my friend was curious enough to ask what I was doing. Writing was my only response. She asked if she could read it and I was struck by the question. Read what? It literally had no purpose at wasn't a novel or poem, it was literally just my thoughts. I let her read it, and then I wrote this. I didn't write it to be read, so posting it here doesn't make sense but I wanted all of you readers who have never met me to understand I do more than drink alcohol and dream about George Clooney. 

I'm a thinker. 

I over analyze life, I reflect on everything that happened in my past, I break apart all my memories, good and bad and sometimes it boggles my mind so much I have to simply go to bed to shut it off.  I spend a lot of my time writing. Books and stories and memories and...well...everything. I have pages and pages, both digitally and physically filled with different things. I truly believe that I can solve all my problems. I believe that the power of my own mind is alarmingly strong. I believe happiness is a choice, and that the best way to choose it is to filter through the past and look at lessons learned.

When I feel alone, or happy, or sad, or excited, or confused, I just write...I write about nothing, nonsense, I ramble until I'm at an equilibrium. I filter my emotions into sense. I feel like a nervous old lady lying on a couch at her shrinks feet spewing off my thoughts until I come to a crystal clear moment brought on by my own brains obscure firings of information and fact. Except I'm my own therapist and my thoughts normally have less to do with life changing disasters and more to do with family, boys and bagels.

Sometimes I feel like my thoughts are too big for my brain.

Not in a scary or sad way, but in a sense that I put a lot of weight in others emotions.Sometimes I worry that I put too much power in other peoples happiness. I worry a lot about those I care for. If I love you, I will love you until the day I die and the most vital thing to me is that you find your joy and happiness in life.

That is one of only two things that truly matter to me. The second is that I'm honest with my emotions and that those who I love, know I love them.

Whenever I'm falling asleep at night and I remember I didn't reply to a text my Dad sent me about his lunch or his latest golf game, I have to reply even if I'm seconds from slumber because I never want him to look at his phone expecting a reply and to be without. I want him to always know I love him, I never want anybody to question if I love them because they probably mean more to me than most things and the thought of someone not feeling loved is something that I couldn't imagine.

I think it comes from two major things...

Firstly, growing up my Mum always told me she didn't feel like I appreciated her. We never told each other we loved the other, we did...we just didn't say it and now it's something I struggle with. Somewhere around the time self centered teenage Jordyn entered the scene we stopped saying those words, it didn't mean I stopped loving her, even though I was chin deep in my own drama to say thank you, or that I loved her, it didn't mean I stopped. 

The second thing was the boyfriend that honestly changed everything I was in the best way possible. 

When I was in my late teens I was involved in a very intense relationship. It wasn't healthy, it wasn't necessarily fun, but it was intense. It was a time that bonded me to this person, and him to me. We were both at pivotal, yet polar points in our lives and we went through it together. It wasn't the type of relationship you screamed from the rooftops, making this person a center of your existence, entangling them in every moment of your life. It was private. It was a relationship that was built for only two, it was for him and it was for myself, nobody else. 

Like all good things, our relationship came to a close. Like magnets flipped on their end we went from being alarmingly joined to being repelled at great force. We both moved in opposite directions and we found new momentum away from eachother,it was good for us. We were happy in our separation,and comfortable in the new relationship we had. We were no longer a unit, we were two separate beings, and things were better. It was at this time, when I had found happiness in myself, away from him that I realized all he did for me.

When we were together, I felt too young for the feelings I had and in turn I treated him terribly. I didn't let him know how much he was doing for me, it wasn't until I was a year out of the coupling that I realized how much it did for me as a person. I missed the appropriate time to let him know how thankful I was for him, how much he did and how much I will always love him for the person he is. 

When we were together I met someone else who also means the world to me, a person who was nothing more than a hook up at the time (yes, I treated my boyfriend that badly) but who helped me through the toughest of times literally without any effort, intention or knowledge he was doing it. We don't even speak anymore really, in fact we never really did at the time, which is why I'm so baffled by how much he means to me. It's honestly the friendship of mine that makes the least amount of sense to me. I don't understand why I feel so attached to someone I barely know, even all these years later. I don't understand why this person always feels so familiar and comfortable to me. These two boys (men?... I'm going to go with boys) helped me over a hurdle with little effort....They made a sad time, a happy memory. Good people are good.

It's weird how people can change you and make you feel like a stranger within the same old shell and when you look back on it all, you are still the exact same person, just better to have known them.

At the end of it all...I'm one of the simplest people I know (though I wonder if that's a common thought?) I have a weird life with a rollercoaster of experiences, I didn't have a normal childhood or a typical up bringing (if there is such a thing...) but I feel like I'm innately simple. The smallest things make me happy. Kindness from strangers, tulips due to their strong connection to the freedom of being 4 years old, my family and friends, terrible pop music, good wine....or bad wine for that matter. I'm not an onion. I don't have layers. I used to wish I was deeper and that I had this mysterious identity. I don't. Sometimes I'm so simple that people think I'm complicated...they are looking for this deeper side that isn't there. I like what I like, I'm not very complex and I'm starting to be very happy with that.

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