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driftwood 01.18.07 12:56 am why do i need to talk to him before i go to sleep every night? why do i continue to feed off his amaretto kisses? he grabs for me in the night and yet i need to remind myself that it is not me that he reaches for. it is just someone, anyone at all. to interpret each kiss that brushes my forehead as a sign of his love for me, each reach, each call, each grab, each fuck. he does it because i am there. always. he does it because he is drowning and needs something to hold onto. i am a handy piece of driftwood, nothing more. he does not love you. he does not love you. he does not love you. move on. again.
and yet. looking back, i have died many heartbreaks with the wrong men. pined for someone who continually looks the other way, someone who cannot give me the one thing that i achingly want. that we all want. to be loved wholly, completely, passionately, and with abandon. there is no way to turn this tide around by continuing to give all of myself to men who take my everything hungrily and still crave for more. i can only continue to feel worse about myself, less of a woman. deficient. damaged. rejected. i am at a loss. no wonder i am at a loss. the past few years of dating the wrong men, looking for validation and love where i will never find it, cycling over and over again into a deep spiral that has landed me here. washed up and spent on this arid shore. i will be 40 this year. i need to break this fucking cycle. it's frustrating. and embarrassing. to be smart and continue to act so stupidly. always at war, my head and my heart. hearts do not have brains. they are carved out early in life, shaped into specific form that dictates the fit of the other half. i need to start at the beginning. to take hold this heart of mine and shake it free from its deformed mold, work its shape with my own hands that it might rest comfortably and at peace inside me. i crave to feel solid and whole. i crave to experience that purest feeling for the first time in my life.
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