admiting defeat.

im at a point where i feel like  circumstances are always going to keep me from achieving happiness. happiness. it is my goal. but i am always too busy trying to get away, be alone, support myself. frm one thing to another, i always think when this is over and that is over then, and not until, im finally going to reach that state of mind that i have been craving since childhood, since birth. i know that happiness is the journey, never the outcome and i am trying so hard to fool myself in thinking that i could be different and every situation can be different although it starts and ends the same as it always has. i can see everything i want, as though it is within my reach and everytime i jump, i fall lower. i must comprimise my dignity and my serenity and my pride to get by on a day to day basis and i am afraid that one day i will lose myself completely and all that will be left is a collaged wall of who i used to be, who i wanted to be. who i always prided myself in being. i have this big open space with my name around it and every once in a while the walls fall down around me and i think about just cutting my loses and showing up on my mothers door step. admit defeat.

and then i remember, that could never be me.