Late Night Journal Entry: Thoughts on Love and Other Things

I cried.

The last time I remember crying this hard I was sixteen. Sixteen and alone, huddled in the fetal position in the corner on the floor. In that spare room next door to the most horrible woman I have ever known. I couldn't breath, couldn't speak. I had just enough energy to mouth words through the flow o tears to a deaf heaven. I couldn't see. My body shaking, convulsing, shivering.
Every once in a while a high pitch sound would escape my salty, wet lips. Wiping the snot from my nose so I have a chance to gasp for a breath.

I cried.

Whatever has been covering that gaping hole in my chest is finally clearing. That dark, empty hole where my heart once resided. 19 years of hiding, covering, ignoring. 19 years of lies, of hurt, of never being wanted. Of abandonment, of waking up and finding everyone that I have ever cared about was gone. Of being beaten and bruised. Of being forced to sleep outside in the snow. Of being called names over and over again. "You'll end up being a cheap hooker on the streets crawling from bed to bed looking for love that wont come...that's not a threat...that's a promise" Of being lied to. Of being feared. Of wanting to die and all the attempts to make that happen. Of hating myself. Of being ignored by my dad. Of being hated.

That gaping hole of cheating and being cheated on. Of hateful words and crying myself to sleep most nights. Of running away to see if I would be found. Of screaming to see if anyone would stick around, put their arms around me and say "I love you and I'm never leaving". Of not eating in hopes someone would see me, For failing in fear of failure. For pushing away in fear of being pushed away.

I cried.

A thousand tears from some lake of pain, some reservoir of sorrow, from some ocean of despair.

I cried.


Out of loneliness. Complete and utter loneliness. My soul screaming out in pain.
"SOME ONE LOVE ME, FOR I CANNOT LOVE MYSELF!"
Back to that fetal position. This time in my own bed.

I cried.

I could feel the rush of a thousand heartbreaks. Why can't I be normal? Why can't I keep relationships?
"Sure, you could get any guy you wanted, but could you keep them?"
Never has a question hit so close to home. Never has truth bitch slapped me so hard. It's true.
I'm beaten, battered and bruised. I've been used and then used again. Chewed up and spat out.
I'm sick. Wounded. Diseased. In desperate need of healing.
BUT HOW!? HOW DO I DO IT!? How do you heal from something that has plauged you for your whole life? That has become engrained in your entire being? That has twisted its why into your veins and slithered its way into your mind; your heart.

Why doesn't he want me? Why is it the same pattern, same routine? I love him with every ounce of love that I understand. And yet I'm not good enough. My love not worth it. I want the best for him I WANT him to succeed. And yet, I'm too much.
"I don't want you."
"I don't want you."
"I don't want you."
"I don't want you."
"I don't want you."
"I don't want you."
"I don't want you"
"I don't want you."
"I don't want you."

I don't want you.
These words rang so clear in my ears. Over and over again he would say it.
This time it hurt worse. This time it was from someone, truly the only human that I have ever wanted so fully.
So I sought other venues. I sought others to fill that hurt of not being wanted...again.
Only to come crawling back and he finding out. Labeling me forever as
                         A CHEATER.
Such a horrible and disgusting word. Such a horrible and disgusting thing to be; to have done.
Never in my entire life have I ever thought that I would be capable of cheating. But things happen. Feelings change. Hurtful, even hateful words are said. Hurtful, even hateful acts are done. I felt justified. "It's my right!! I deserve this." or rather " he doesn't deserve me".

How many times I have played back those nights over and over in my head...wishing I could some how erase them from history...from memory.

Why did I do it? I love him.
Love. Selflessness.
How little I understood of love.
I was completely selfISH. He hurt my feelings.  He didn't think of my feelings before he said that, before he did that.  Feelings, feelings, feelings.

What a terrible way to live life. Based off feelings. Feelings change from moment to moment. I'm hungry = changed feelings. I'm tired = changed feelings. I'm PMSing. I'm sick. I'm happy. I'm anxious. I'm scared, cold, worried, excited, bored, sad, lonely. They change. I thought love was a feeling. No. It's a deep rooted choice to put the other persons needs, wants, desires, passions, hopes and dreams before (not above) your own. If it is something other than this than it is only a whim, a thought, a beautiful idea..but subject to change. 

However...'you cannot love someone without first loving yourself.'

If you want a good cake,
The ingredients must be good and ready.
For you cannot have a good cake
With rotten or unripened ingredients.

I need to work on myself before I ever love again. Because how can I give it, if I don't first possess it for myself??

It's late..and I need sleep.
sorry for the rant.