Sunday, September 15, 2013

hate and love and fear

I want so much.  Mostly right now, I want to know WHO I AM.  I would love to belong to someone.  Everyone on the outside, well, most people on the outside, say I have my kids and lovely friends in the community...I do.  But that isn't what I mean.  I feel like I could say it over and over again...here is a moderately interesting dilemma.  Is it more important to be good, or to be loved?  Both mean so much to me...I believe they are both all there is. 

And no one knows what I mean.  What I am talking about.  Because I don't even know...not really.  "you are my favorite person".  When you have that, and it is gone, it feels like nothing.  A nothing bigger than every fear and rejection you have ever imagined.  But I reached for someone from my past.  And he wanted me.  and it helped ease the pain of not being someone's favorite.  It even made me smile.  but if I kept that up, it would mean that I was not being true to anything that matters to me.  He made me feel beautiful and smart and fun and sexy.  I need to carry that forward.  Into oblivion...nothingness.  and I guess I can do that but i also have no idea why I want to.  Not carry it, but enter oblivion...I have no choice...that is what is ahead of me, I guess...

I don't know who I am. I am bound my desire to be loved.  I am torn by it.  I am wrecked in it and it drowns me.  John's love made so much pain go away.  I still had doubts.  But he was always there to reassure me, to treasure me.  And now all I have is other people needing me.  I have words on screens.  And I don't want to say this, but damn it, I hate my life.  I don't hate it all.  I love many many little pieces.  I know somewhere in me is the strength to get through this.  And I know that I don't get to say when or how that happens.  I feel like I have had to do a lot of it alone.  And I wish I knew better how to ask for help, to reach for it, and to ask again when it doesn't show up. 

And I wonder how it is wrong when without it all I feel is buried in pain.  But I can't cover my pain with the chance of causing pain to another.  I am not actually more important than someone else.  I wish I were, but I'm not.