There are typically four men you meet in your life..
There was the “young love,” the kind of love that you sort of fall into. Not really knowing what to expect, taking things day by day. Being so forgiving and trusting because you’ve never been hurt before… until he left.
There was the “first…
1. You often feel like they aren’t actually happy for you when you announce good news, and you’ve just stopped telling them a lot of it when it happens.
2. The interests you all have are drifting further and further apart, and each time you go out it takes longer to find something that everyone…
We keep promising each other that we deserve better. Of course we do with naturally built expectations. That when a certain person walks into your life you’ll know exactly why all the other people walked out.
Trust is such a foreign concept to me these days.
I thought I was loved by someone I gave a part of myself to. Instead, I am realizing that things don’t last. That maybe I should have enjoyed them a little more while they were happening. While things were pure. While things were honest.
Friends I have now are coming in and out. Revolving door. Because I end up getting hurt. So, what once was a deep understanding of each other becomes a shallow acquaintance. I want to yell. I want to shake them and ask them why we didn’t take care of each other’s feelings better. I want to ask if I mattered to them. I want to know why I ache for the loss and yet they seem just fine.
A lot of the people in my life have someone. Someone to laugh with over stupid things, to weep over painful things. To hold their hand. To rest a a hand on their shoulder. To gently uncurl your fisted hands, or your body when you grasp your knees and hide your face. They spread love into you with affection. With thoughts. With care. Slowly carefully, like the way my mom lotions her hands at night, gently and lovingly. With intent.
I want to hold someone. I want someone to hold me. Not just in my arms but in my heart. In my mind. In my memories. In my present. In my future.
I don’t really have friends. Or do I? At least it just feels like people just come in then leave. I need people to stay. I need people to look at me and tell me the truth if they can’t stay. If they don’t just see myself in their eyes. Because it’s okay. The truth is always okay.
I need someone to pour my love into because my heart feels like it’s about to overflow and drown me in it.
Instead I shake my head, I try to pour the love back into myself knowing that only time will be the answer. Time. Because over time people come and go. But I will always have myself. Overtime I will meet people who see that love and who pour their love into me, so that I can stop spilling my love on people who never seemed to want it.