And then it occurred to me-what if my mother dies? What if those who need me wander off and find others to fill their desires and no longer need me at all? Then I will be completely alone. I guess I have given up on the idea that someone will want to be with me just to be with me. Because they love me independently of their own immediate wants, because seeing me happy makes them happy. I have given up on this. So now all I am left is relationships where I fill in the cracks of other peoples lives. And as soon as they realize they don't mind the cracks, or perhaps that others poor concrete more smoothly than I, I will be completely alone.
Why couldn't you just hold me and listen? Why couldn't you just ask me how my weekend was? Why couldn't you hold me and let me rant and not care why I might be mad at you or why I had treated you a certain way? Why couldn't you just breathe and be secure and be patient with me? I am just a small soul. A small delicate soul with little left to hold my body up. Sometimes that body just collapses and you can't ever help face down while falling asleep.
I don't know how I feel about love. I don't know how I feel about it when also feeling like this. It's hard to know where one emotion ends and another begins, or from which direction they originated. It seems much easier to die old and singular, curled up in a corner somewhere, uncared for and blatantly unnoticed by anyone. At least then you'll know positively that you are alone, instead of just guessing at it.