And I worry that this sadness will follow me for a long long time. It’s funny how Hong Kong activates my tear glands and how easy it is nowadays to be struck by a random bout of sadness with a strong urge to hug myself and cry. And how I love that I’m yet another stranger in this densely populated city so I can weep in peace among the scurrying crowds because they don’t care and I know I’ll be alright in a couple of minutes anyway.
I always thought I love too much and too little, but recently I’m thinking maybe only the former hold true. Too overly attached to people who don’t deserve to be makes me excessively upset, questioning if there’s something wrong with me that withheld them from loving me back. And feeling like a fucking idiot for wrongly assuming that they like me more than they actually do.
I like to think that I’m super fortunate to meet all the awesome people I had met but I think my luck is running out.