are u there, worry? it’s your bestie, jamari

my parents use to worry about everything.
my mother,
mostly.
God bless their souls,
but they really did me a disservice by witnessing that.
it wasn’t even about like traumatic shit either.
it was irrelevant “easy to fix” shit.
so i grew up worrying about everything.
from:

am i attractive?
do people like me?
how gay do i come off?
am i ever going to be “anything”?
am i doomed of a life of being single?

will i be homeless if i don’t find a job?
is being a loser who can’t get it right in my future?

today,
i was about to write a whole apology entry

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