I was never ready
I realised I was never ready.
I was never ready to wake up in the morning. I would struggle both physically and mentally to get out of the bunk bed, only to trudge to the nearest available chair and slouch there for a good 10 minutes, doing literally nothing.
I was never ready for that important presentation. I would practice countless of times, only for the feeling of incompetency to backstab me the very last minute, and apologising idiotically after.
I was never ready to order. I would stare at the menu, flipping the pages back and forth, scrutinising every picture if there are any, only to give up and followed the majority because I’m taking too long and everyone was famished.
I was never ready for new relationships. I would devote a significant amount of time trying to develop the relationship to a further level, only for others to view it as a push factor. Hence, I stopped.
I was never ready to accept love. I could not understand the significance of one’s feelings, only to fuck up, realised my mistakes and felt extremely undeserving of what was given to me unconditionally. Hence, I stopped.
I was never ready to love. I was not capable to do so. I gave nothing but hurt. I gave nothing but tears . I gave nothing but lies, one after another. Hence, I stopped.
