It's exactly four days until my 29th birthday. Four days until it's one year until I'm 30. I had wanted to be more adamant about writing this. Had wanted to keep up with it. Be a blogger. Be involved in my thoughts in a process where I could put them into words and make them easier to process. As usual though it got away from me. I don't know what it is, a lack of time? Of desire? Lack of drive to complete things? Life has been busy but also not. When it's eventful it's all consuming and stressful in a good way; but it leads me to a crash. To a time when all I want to do is watch Hulu or Netflix. Alone. Preferably, though never usually, with some form of booze. Because that is the way I can shut it all off. Lock myself in a room, lose myself in the drink and the drama of someone else's life. Someone fictional, someone who has more of a possibility for things to come out their way. For them to come out on top. I honestly can't truly complain. I have a family that loves me, a boyfriend who is caring and attentive when he can be, my health, an income...so why is it all I want to do is curl up into a ball and cry my eyes out?
If I had to guess I would say, I'm not happy. Not truly. I love my life, love that I have an opportunity to live it, love my friends and my family...however there is this piece of me...that is just absent. Been missing for quite some time now. Maybe it's self love. Maybe it's self satisfaction. Or maybe it's just I'm not living the life I desire. Not the glitz and glam lifestyle where all you do is party and drink. Where your nights consist of dancing in clubs where you can't hear yourself think and the beat of your heart mirrors that of the music. Not the life where you fuck the night away with anyone that strikes your fancy. The opposite actually. The life where you work or stay at home. Where you keep a house and put meals on the table. Where all your moments involve the one you chose as your own and the ones you made together. Formed from love and desire and connection...or a drunken night or two. Those little ones who fill your heart with so much love you just want to burst. Who even when you're stressed and falling apart, even when you feel and look a mess you could never love any less then you do the heart that beats within your chest.
Maybe it's the fact that I have never felt or considered myself worthy. Of love, of being loved. All I have ever desired my entire life was to have one person who would pick me. Out of everything and everyone in this world. They would say this is the person I want beside me. This is who I want to have every future moment with, good and bad. I thought I had that once...maybe I did...but that passed with the wind. To young, to far, to much history. Now that is so far from over. Found another, made a life with them, life with two kids and the moments I can only dream of. After 25 everything changed. I yearn for kids. I hold a baby and my body screams at me. It says make this, create this love outside of yourself. Be a part of the future of this world, you can do better or at least you can do different. It can be argued that I have that now. The one who wants me and only me. Who's only future imaginable is one that I am a part of. It can be argued by everyone but myself. For all I can see is how the commitment has yet to be made. The true commitment. The binding one. The one that says to everyone this is the choice I have made. It is my own. It comes from my heart and I can no longer contain it there. This is my person. This is the one I choose. This is the one I love even when I don't want to. Even when its hard. This is the one I want as my partner, until I die.
I come from a family where I never in the entire span of my life ever saw my parents kiss or be anyway intimate towards one another. Perhaps that has put me at fault in life. Caused much of my problems. Having had parents who were done with one another, possibly, before I was even formed. Or maybe it's whats kept me strong in my relationships or at least kept me in the ring. Fighting for what I want, who I want. Honestly for me it's all about the action. I don't care about the ring and though I would love an extravagant and poignant proposal even that doesn't matter. I just want words. Words from the heart and a promise. With some small token whatever it may be. Just something to say this time it's real. This time it's serious. This time and always, I want you. I love you. Please be mine, forever, until the end of our lives.
Sadly I'm beginning to reside myself to a fate where the one I want this from never takes the leap. Never makes the promise and my heart breaks to such a point that I have to leave. Have to walk out. Because there will be no coming back from that final heart break. No return from the final piece of self slipping out of me. I will only be a shell. A shell filled with broken promises, empty words, untold truths, mistakes, and more self loathing then any one person could attempt to handle. A shell of who I once was and the future I used to want. A person who doesn't just think they aren't worthy of the thing the truly desire, a person who knows they aren't. Just a ball of hurt, disappointment and anger walking around with human legs. Pretending to be a person when the need arises and disappearing the moment you turn your head. Like a smile the only lasts long enough for you to look at it.
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