Sometimes, I wonder if what we’re doing now is even worth the loneliness I feel when he’s gone.

If it’s even worth the questioning of who I am, how do I feel, and whether or not this is something I’m ready to let go of.

Spoiler: I’m not ready to let go

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Lonely Hearts

Tumblr has this power to consume hours of my life before I realize that I have done nothing with my day. Usually, it is my procrastination tool. Today, it had shown me a post that I resonated with:

“Who else thinks love is overrated until your head hits that mf pillow at night and you realize you’re all alone and want to bond with someone’s heart”

I have continuously wanted to give up on love, to write it off and just live my best life. I did that for a while, but I continuously found myself ridiculously lonely at night. I recognized that I had friends that made me happy, hobbies that i enjoyed, that I had the time all for myself. I truly did enjoy it.

Then. I decided to just live my best life and date. WHy? Why did I DO that!?
I’m kidding… a little bit.

The point is, I got a taste of what it felt to be wanted. To want someone. To want to get to know someone and their passions. To feel that ambiguous intangible blob of feelings towards a person and not know what to do.

 

I’ve determined that after dating, I’ve always craved the want to bond with someone else’s heart. To share my innermost feelings and workings of my brain. To enjoy the reserved look on their face when they start talking about what they’re truly interested in. Smiling as their face morphs into quick unabashed joy as they realize you’re truly interested in what they have to say. The quick realization that they’re gushing and the stop in conversation as they try to play off their excitement as “it’s not really a big deal..” when we both know, yeah – that was a big deal.

To learn about their life. What annoys them, what frustrates them, and how they feel about certain situations in their life. I tend to be attracted to the person when they talk about their passions. When they talk about things that make them tick. Things that keep them up at night.

I think because I want to connect with someone in that way, I allow myself to become vulnerable to a person that asks those questions of me. I may reveal too much. Honestly, I’ve noticed that I just end up feeling more lonely when I do so.

I want to bond with someone else’s heart but… I’ve been burned badly the last few times and it just… hurts.

 

But I don’t want to assume that everyone is out to do that – so I continue getting burned and I continue opening my heart to people in the hopes that someone comes along, wanting the same thing too.

I am a very patient woman.
I am probably too patient.

At least, in the events that transpired the last couple weeks, I have truly recognized this trait in myself.

 

Remember the guy from the last blog post? Well… he’s back in my life.
I think it’s a bit different this time but my hesitation is still the same. The one main difference is the fact that he also helped me through a rough emotional transition — with another guy.

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Will I Be Enough?

‘Am I enough?’   This question always makes me stop and reflect. I see past crushes flash through my mind, past lovers and their heated gazes, current love interests, and how I allowed myself to be treated by all of them.

Have I been enough?
Will I be enough?

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I’m always told that passion is important in everything you do. I’m also told that timing is everything. Effort. Same pages. Same chapters. Same books.

I don’t even have the care to write it all down, but they’re the same advice that I give out to people when less than desirable things happen to them. I hate giving myself the same advice, yet I find myself repeating it – chanting it, like a mantra.

You both need to be on the same page.
He isn’t giving you the effort you deserve.
He would have made time if he cared.
Timing is everything.
Know your worth.
Stop.

Fuck it all. Things happen to me and I am exhausted. I am fed up. I have every right to be angry and yet I can’t bring it to myself to be. Instead, I go on with my day. I flip pages and get paper cuts. I see the blood. I don’t feel it at all. I just wipe it away. I just become… numb.

Time is nothing to me and all I wanna do is just sit in silence. My mind literally has a million questions floating around; none of which I want to answer.

I make no sense. This makes no sense. All I know is that I am

fed up
hurt
done

I’m tired.