We're going home, and his head is on my shoulder. And, right then, I feel blissful. I feel like everthing's not so bad anymore.. Even though I subconsciously contradict myself.
I'm doing the best that I possibly can, and finally I've decided that it's good enough. I don't need to be correct all of the time, and I don't need to protect myself by trying to forsee everything.
I'm still unsure of what to think when I look in his eyes. I'm still recovering. These ideas in my head, and in my dreams, I continue to water and nurture. These sickening images that make my insides want to burst. I want them no more.
Though, the more I remind myself that I'm doing enough on my part, the better I end up feeling.
But is there meaning behind this? Am I really not doing enough? Maybe I'm neglecting what I never thought I would. What means the most to me. Who means the most to me.