There is still that sense of longing in me, that hopeless search for the comfort and stability that I’ve grown so accustomed to these past few years, that desire to be someone else’s “one and only”, that journey to find happiness and true love. Sometimes I feel as bereft as an abandoned newborn baby on a remote island. I know that I need to love myself first and many times over again. I need to accept the fact that this is just another rough patch in life, that eventually time will heal. Time won’t make me whole ever again, but it will make me better, stronger, deeper (so I hope!). I can’t say that I’ve gone through this road many times, but yes, I have definitely been there. I just hope that this time I know how to love myself enough to not hold on to the pain and torture my mind, heart, and soul for not fighting hard enough. How hard is enough?
I am surrounded by an overwhelming amount of love and support these days from my family and dear friends, the ones who know me well enough to understand that behind the cold, strong, brave front that I am putting forth, I am dying slowly inside... but I am going to box up all of these pessimistic thoughts and negative energy and ship them to Neverland.
I(t) will get better.
