"...Leave Me No Room for Doubt..."

All I’ve ever wanted was to be wanted. 

For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to be that person that someone couldn’t imagine being without. I find myself on the opposite end of that, more than anything else. I make a permanent place for people who only wish to stay temporarily– or periodically.

I see the signs. I know too well when people have that itch to leave, but I refuse to leave. I fight for their affections– their attention. I should be interesting enough to hold your attention, right? Why am I not that interesting to you?

I never understood it. I give you everything you want, even denying myself of much… and still it isn’t enough. How can I be what you want? 

You were everything to me. Even your flaws were loved.

For years I’ve been searching for that approval. I see everything; skewed facial expressions, puzzled glances, delayed responses, indifference, offensive thoughts brought to life in tight words and raised voices, furrowed brows, frustrated bottom lips and I begin to panic. I knowthe signs. I’ve experienced this cold for so long I’ve begun to believe that this will be the cycle until the death of my heart…

…but it never dies. 

You’d think I would detach myself the moment I pick up on it– the scent of the death of something that never got a chance to live. No. Instead I hold on tighter fully believing that if given the chance they will show me that I’m worth “it”. 

Affirmation never comes. 

Instead, cold fingers peel away from my grip one finger at a time, leaving bare and covering all of myself. 

It’s ironic, really. I give so much and have so little–even so little to give… but I still give.

Why am I not dead? Why can’t I be bitter? Why do I want to embrace the ones that offend me, most? Why do I want to run up to them and shout at the top of my lungs, “I LOVE YOU!!!” Why do I melt at the cold touch of others? Why is my beaten, bloody, broken heart not calloused? What’s wrong with me? 

Why do I believe the definition of love a painful one? That’s all I’ve known… That’s my norm. I probably wouldn’t even know what to do with a love that is gentle and sweet and kind andsoft and comforting and assuring and affirming… 

I obsess over the comfort and security of others. They must know how beautiful, wonderful, unforgettable, irreplaceable they are… and, secretly– maybe not so secretly I want the same…though through action. 

It’s why I fight so hard. You will see how much you’re worth to me, how much of a loss I would experience…No one fights for anything anymore. I don’t want easy. I want work and arguing and tears and sacrifice and cloudy days and commitment and broken finger nails and over thinking and lost sleep and “I almost walked away, but then I realized…”– I want it all.

I want love. 

The true fear: I don’t want you to hold me because once I nestle myself into your warm, secure embrace, you’ll feel the weight of me and pull away…landing me flat on my face.

So let me give you all I can. I will initiate conversation. I will chase you. I will fight for you. Take what you want until I’m spent…that way I won’t miss what I never had…I won’t see how you won’t fight for me…

Avoiding the all too familiar “No, please don’t leave me…not you too… Am I not good enough? Please stay…”

All I ever wanted was to be wanted.