people will always disappoint you. you can count on no one.
this is true in many and in seemingly all ways:
you have a friend who you think may understand you, finally, your heart and your happiness and whatever hurts you harbor, and you begin to trust them in such a way that you are able to speak to them truths about you that you would not freely or indiscriminately give to any strange soul; and you think this will be okay, because you believe they may understand. but then- their actions- they take something that they offhandedly think is "in your best interest," a thoughtless action carried out "because it's best for you this way!"- but this is the worst possible thing they could have done in the situation- it is humiliating, demeaning, infantilizing. it feels like ardent betrayal, something laughed off later- the awfulest thing to do. it still hurts, thinking about it. this situation, and the subsequent reaction by this friend, speaks in some ways- it tells you what they think of you, deep down, their basest understanding of your character and your mindset: that you are incapable of making decisions for yourself, because you are crazy. that whatever you decide is the wrong thing, because you have decided it. because you are crazy. it hurts. and now i will remain guarded.

then, there is the Return To What Was Once Your Safe Place: ace was that place, for me, after i left high school, and felt ungrounded. ace, and its people, brought me back to life- and then i was taken from it for a time, an unbearable time; and when i returned, overjoyed, i was disheartened to see that the people were not the same people- the old people had gone, and been replaced with new people- and it was startling, because i had not been expecting strangers. after being with these strangers- who sat in new seats, who coveted my own routine seat, who spoke different languages amongst themselves than that to which i had grown accustomed- and none of these things are their fault; it is natural for new people to adjust to themselves, to their surroundings, and make it their own Safe Place. but it is not my Safe Place anymore. and it is because of these strangers who deserve to be there just as much-if not so much more- than i do. i realize i can't go back to what it once was, i can't go back there, because it doesn't exist anymore. i cried when i found my stuffed rhino- the grey animal with white eyes, because the pupils had rubbed off, and whose face smiled up at me every day; the eyeless stuffed rhino who was with me in the severest and the most joyous of times- torn to shreds, its face unrecognizeable, destroyed by the teeth of a dog who doesn't know anything. this alteration was unspeakably disturbing to me. because i had always known that my eyeless stuffed rhino would be there- but then, it shocked me, destroyed. i can't go back there anymore, to ace. once again- i don't know where my Safe Place is.

and then there is the simple, everyday hurt of reaching out for someone's voice- just to hear them talk of themselves, of their lives- reaching out to everyone you can think of, everyone you know, and having not one person answer your calls, or desire to talk to you, because they think you're annoying, and you know they're right. dear God, this self-deprecation is getting old. so you know what? i'm not doing that shit anymore.

i love my body and i love my mind, and i don't want people anymore. i won't apologize for anything anymore, because that's so fucked up- it's sick. i'm done with it. i'm not trying anymore, i'm done with this fruitless, everlasting trying- it's sick- and nothing happening- nothing-. i love my words and i love my thoughts and i'm keeping them, thank you, i'm not changing them for anybody. you can do whatever you want to me now, you can never speak to me again, you can never see me because i'll be still invisible, not even here; you can think whatever you want of me, and i honest to God don't care. i have me now, and that's enough. i am strong now: nobody, nothing can touch me anymore, now.