Sometimes I think I'm losing my mind. I sit in the dark, thoughts crowding my mind so completely that I can't sleep. Insomnia is my best friend-we go way back. My thoughts drift to darker times, times from my past that are usually hidden away. Nobody sees the inside of me. They don't see the unhappiness I feel every day. It has become commonplace to put up a front, a happy face for all to see. Very few people have seen the darkness of my mind...the twisted snarls of confusion, the intense anger for every wrong done...
And yet there is a numbness that fills me. I don't remember what it feels like to be truly happy, to be truly loved. I feel drained, like I've given away all of me, and received nothing back. I don't remember what it feels like to be compassionate, to be caring. I go through the motions, but the feeling is not there. I cook because I'm supposed to. I call because I'm supposed to. But I feel nothing. My family, my friends, all fall away, and it's just me. I am all I have. People say they'll be there, but it's only when it is convenient for them. They dip out when you really need them...
I miss the fire and ice, the intensity of emotions that I used to feel. I feel like I have seen too much, heard too much, experienced too much, to believe in true love anymore. It is all so fake, so contrived. What happened to loving someone for who they are, to forgiving the person you love, to loving someone so much that their faults became nonexistent? Each time I start to open myself, to show the scarred interior of my broken heart, something happens to slam it shut again. Each time it becomes harder to open...
I am the ultimate contradiction...I am strong willed and fiercely independent...yet I crave someone to hold me and tell me everything will be okay. I believe that women are strong enough to conquer anything, yet I don't want to be alone and I yearn for someone to tell me what is right and wrong, to be the head of my household. I hate being attached, but I can't be alone...
They say that everyone comes with baggage...So true, but I wonder if I come with more baggage than the average person...
Can someone so damaged be loved?
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