Today I feel like the only thing I truly am is ingenuine. One moment I act one way and then the next I'm another. I don't understand. I'm so unsure. How can this possibly be right? I feel the moments growing more and more, I feel the weakness growing stronger and stronger. I'm not just unsure, I'm unsure of
myself. I'm growing more and more
insecure as the days go on. And I don't understand why. I know who I am in Christ, and I know that I am loved, but the feeling still lingers in the back of my mind. It's like a fear that I shall be rejected for who I am, but at the same time I feel as if those who know me don't really know me. And I feel tossed upon waves of confusion. It's as if all the dreams I've ever dreamed are of no use because they will never come true, because no one will believe me, because no one will join me, because nobody cares about my dreams. All they see is theirs. You could argue me all day about all the faults in my feelings, or the wrong motives I may have, but I'm not claiming to be right, I'm just writing what I
feel. And all I feel is so lost, insecure, and yes, even unwanted. I just need someone to reach out and care, not for what they can get in return, but because they really want to help. I'm tired of being used. I try to care for and about others all day, every day, but when can I have someone turn around and care for me? Everybody has their own little romance, their own little path. I should be going to college right now. I should be learning to do what I love so I can have a successful life, but I have no way since all my college fund was spend by whim. It never occurred to me just how much self esteem a person gets just from having loving parents. My mom is loving, and she's always been there, but what do you do with a father who wants nothing to do with you unless you let him play you like a piece on a chess board. The love of a daddy. That's what I've missed. That's what I
still long for, and it's what I'll never possess.
And I'm screwed up inside. I long and I long and I long, and my heart trembles uncontrollably until my breath comes fast and a sharp pain pierces me between the lungs. Simple words slice and plunge themselves deep between my ribs, and I lie here bleeding from many open wounds. But no one sees, because they're all inside. Hidden wounds, internal bleeding. Can no one see the hurt behind my eyes? Can no one see the lump that gathers in my throat and forces me not to speak?
There's so much pain, there's so much pain. But I cannot cry. I cannot cry.
