Bump. Blip. Hurdle. Stumble.
Call it what you want.
Here, I am.
Where do I fit?
Why do I search? And search, and search?
What I want feels so simple. Yet, remains so elusive.
Today, I want a hug. A warm, encompassing hug. A look that says, I see you. You are important. You are loved.
Today, I want a family. A mom. A dad. Those people who are supposed to love you unconditionally. Those people who celebrate your victories, your successes. Those people who just listen.
Those people who are just there. Who want you. Who hug you when you hurt.
I want a husband who just knows me. One who makes me feel attractive, and loved, and wanted.
I’ve always wanted to be wanted.
I’m trying so hard to make it all work. To put it all back together. To be more than just okay.
Why is it so hard?
I’m in such a funny stage. A stage that tells me it isn’t about me. But one that also still has trouble truly believing it.
So, I stumble. I stumble back onto a familiar path. A rocky, rough road.
With a dark hole at the end.
Where do I fit? What is real?
How do I tell who loves me? Who really cares?
Who is safe?
And always…that part of me who remembers that I am not really worth all the work.
All. The. Work.
Because, we know, I am a lot of work.
I am not simple, and uncomplicated, and joyfully happy all the time.
Oh…I want to be.
But, I am a complex being.
So…I sit here. I hope. I stumble. I hope some more. Maybe the change will come. Maybe I can learn not to need other people. Maybe I can learn to flip the script of unconscious self-abuse.