(no subject)
More than anything in the world, I want that one person who would make me feel so special and loved... cherished, trusted, not necessarily complete - because I definitely am my own person - but who fills in what I might be missing. For some reason, it's an overwhelming need to me. Yes, I have my family and friends that always make me feel loved.. but this is a different kind of love. It's that love that you know someone always wants to see you. That kind that someone would be by your dying bedside just to have a few more moments with you. Where all the stupid little things don't matter, where you have fun, and can say anything without being yelled at. It's the love that is so strong that nothing can shatter it. Things may try, there will definitely be bumps and potholes and stumbles along the way... but this love can overcome all of that. Maybe I've somehow turned from a hard and callous person into someone who thinks love can conquer all. Idealistic.. hopeless romantic.. nope. Not really. I've always tried to be more of a realist so that i didn't get hurt. And then I meet someone who makes my realism suddenly disappear and turn into hope. Then the hope shatters and crumbles.. and I turn cold again. But when I meet the person who keeps giving me hope and then pulls the rug out from under me, I'm left confused and scared and suddenly just lonely.
Why... Why is it that some people find their love so young and some people don't? Why is it some love disappears into thin air and can't be found again? Why am I left wondering what I did or didn't do? Why is it all so confusing? Once feelings get involved, it makes everything worse. I tried to keep feelings out, but they found me. It didn't matter what I tried to do, I got roped in. I loved it. I remember a co-worker of mine 3 years ago, who found out I had gotten engaged, said " I love love." I know exactly what she meant now. I love the feeling of love. Of seeing other people in love. And frankly, it makes me incredibly jealous too. Especially now. Right this second.
I really hate being hopeful. I hate the feeling that I want something to happen so badly. I know it's not going to though. I'm just setting myself up, but I can't help but just hope. It's part of the optimist in me. I just want that something good to happen so much, and right now I keep trying to be a realist and tell myself that I know it's not going to. He said he's not coming, so why am I hoping he's just going to show up? That's stupid. It's not going to happen. The hope gives me something to hold onto, I suppose. It's like the blanket from being 5 that somehow I just refuse to give up. It's that feeling of happy, of security, of faith, anticipation, wishing... but still knowing in the very back, dark shadowy corner of my brain that its all for nothing.
In 2 hours, I'll still be sitting her by myself, wishing for something that was never going to happen.
I just wish I didn't hope so much. Give myself to someone else in hoping that this time won't be like the last time. That nothing will make us argue, that we'll laugh again. Like we did 3 days ago. Every laugh makes me give my heart to him just a little bit more. Every smile. Every time we hold hands. And then I say something that I didn't realize how it sounded, or I don't say something when I was supposed to, and it all falls apart and then the pieces I haven't given away of my heart start to break. A crack here, a bruise there, enough to hurt. The pieces I give away I can't get back. I guess its times like this I'm glad I have Hello Kitty duct-tape. But even though it's pink, with cute little Hello Kitties on it, it's just a patch. It can only hold as much as it can before its adhesive starts to fade and the temporary patch falls off. The cycle continues after that. After a patch and some time to heal, the laughing starts, the smiling, the hand holding.. and more. And then pieces are given that can't be returned. More cracks and bruises and suddenly rips and tears happen and are more prevalent. The cold, harshness in me shows back up and then I don't believe anymore.
How can there be anyone who is there for me? I'm 29 and still have no chance of getting married or staying in love anytime soon. I thought I did, but... I don't know. It's confusing and hurtful, and just doesn't make sense. It's not objective, it leaves me - a very extrovert person who loves to be around anyone and everyone - alone. Depression shows up and then that causes me to become a recluse. I don't want to get out of bed or talk to anyone or even be around anyone. The complete opposite of "normal" me. A hermit. It's happened before, and wouldn't shock me when it happens again.
I'll take my time and give the depression its dues, then I'll move on and get on with my life like I always do. The quietness of my loneliness suddenly becomes my security for now.
Why... Why is it that some people find their love so young and some people don't? Why is it some love disappears into thin air and can't be found again? Why am I left wondering what I did or didn't do? Why is it all so confusing? Once feelings get involved, it makes everything worse. I tried to keep feelings out, but they found me. It didn't matter what I tried to do, I got roped in. I loved it. I remember a co-worker of mine 3 years ago, who found out I had gotten engaged, said " I love love." I know exactly what she meant now. I love the feeling of love. Of seeing other people in love. And frankly, it makes me incredibly jealous too. Especially now. Right this second.
I really hate being hopeful. I hate the feeling that I want something to happen so badly. I know it's not going to though. I'm just setting myself up, but I can't help but just hope. It's part of the optimist in me. I just want that something good to happen so much, and right now I keep trying to be a realist and tell myself that I know it's not going to. He said he's not coming, so why am I hoping he's just going to show up? That's stupid. It's not going to happen. The hope gives me something to hold onto, I suppose. It's like the blanket from being 5 that somehow I just refuse to give up. It's that feeling of happy, of security, of faith, anticipation, wishing... but still knowing in the very back, dark shadowy corner of my brain that its all for nothing.
In 2 hours, I'll still be sitting her by myself, wishing for something that was never going to happen.
I just wish I didn't hope so much. Give myself to someone else in hoping that this time won't be like the last time. That nothing will make us argue, that we'll laugh again. Like we did 3 days ago. Every laugh makes me give my heart to him just a little bit more. Every smile. Every time we hold hands. And then I say something that I didn't realize how it sounded, or I don't say something when I was supposed to, and it all falls apart and then the pieces I haven't given away of my heart start to break. A crack here, a bruise there, enough to hurt. The pieces I give away I can't get back. I guess its times like this I'm glad I have Hello Kitty duct-tape. But even though it's pink, with cute little Hello Kitties on it, it's just a patch. It can only hold as much as it can before its adhesive starts to fade and the temporary patch falls off. The cycle continues after that. After a patch and some time to heal, the laughing starts, the smiling, the hand holding.. and more. And then pieces are given that can't be returned. More cracks and bruises and suddenly rips and tears happen and are more prevalent. The cold, harshness in me shows back up and then I don't believe anymore.
How can there be anyone who is there for me? I'm 29 and still have no chance of getting married or staying in love anytime soon. I thought I did, but... I don't know. It's confusing and hurtful, and just doesn't make sense. It's not objective, it leaves me - a very extrovert person who loves to be around anyone and everyone - alone. Depression shows up and then that causes me to become a recluse. I don't want to get out of bed or talk to anyone or even be around anyone. The complete opposite of "normal" me. A hermit. It's happened before, and wouldn't shock me when it happens again.
I'll take my time and give the depression its dues, then I'll move on and get on with my life like I always do. The quietness of my loneliness suddenly becomes my security for now.