(no subject)
Six months ago I was alone. I was rocking back and forth on my bathroom floor, sobbing and screaming at the world for allowing me to fall over and over and over again without ever sending anyone to help me up again. I had waited, cried, fallen to my knees, loved, adored, offered a shoulder, bared my very heart and soul, and it was all for absolutely nothing. I had nothing to show for the onslaught of emotion poured forth for years and years. They never wanted it. They'd describe a best friend as a desired mate and then choose a selfish, high-maintainence priss. I would give myself over completely, even back away and leave them be when some other girl would come along and break their heart. I gave my love, and they never cared. It was always that way - offer your heart and dignity up on a silver platter, and they wave it away and tell you they're waiting for the next course.
Where is he? I screamed. Where is he? My kindred spirit? The one who's been destroyed and rebuilt only to be destroyed again? Why does every self-involved brat with and IQ of 102 get to be held and touched while I'm alone for another night with my teddy bear? Where is he?
And then he fell into my lap. And I had never been adored in such a way before. It was easy to fall into him. I'd described him over and again, and there he was. I was afraid because it was so easy. I was used to equating strong emotion with angst and pain. But he was there, and I was ready to, at long last, be on the recieving end.
A friend said she thought we deserved one another. I imagine she was right.
Where is he? I screamed. Where is he? My kindred spirit? The one who's been destroyed and rebuilt only to be destroyed again? Why does every self-involved brat with and IQ of 102 get to be held and touched while I'm alone for another night with my teddy bear? Where is he?
And then he fell into my lap. And I had never been adored in such a way before. It was easy to fall into him. I'd described him over and again, and there he was. I was afraid because it was so easy. I was used to equating strong emotion with angst and pain. But he was there, and I was ready to, at long last, be on the recieving end.
A friend said she thought we deserved one another. I imagine she was right.