Seeking

Desperation seeking. Thirsty for approval. Starved for affection. It’s so intangibly tangible if that makes any sense. I can feel that pit in my stomach acting up again. It cries and screams incessantly. Why can’t I be happy it asks me? It doesn’t matter how much effort and time I give to someone I thought I cared about, they simply don’t care enough back. Was I a fool blinded by this abstract notion of love? Was it simply a fairy tale romance that I kept building up in my head? Was I not genuine? I’ve tried so hard to get in touch with myself and I keep thinking I’m improving for the better, but it just feels wrong. I change myself for approval. I’m so desperate for approval because of how much it drives my well-being. Have you ever thought about how your entire life depends on somebody else liking you? Romance is dependent on somebody else caring, somebody else telling you that you matter. The only difference between romance and obsession is that one of those involves both sides caring for one another. One consumes your entire well being and poisons your mind. Is it really poison though? I view it as a desperate cry for attention, a cry for love, a cry that quietly asks you to care. Please care for me as I care for you. I’ve given so much and just want even the tiniest most insignificantly significant ounce of affection to be given back. I love you so much with every ounce of my being and I just want to hold you in my arms and tell you that you matter so much to me. I want you to not be so hard on yourself and wish you nothing but the best. I want to tell you that you deserve all the wonderful things in life and that you are cherished and adored by someone. I want to tell you that you’re energy is best spent on people who care about you. I want to tell you that you matter, and I want you to tell me the same. I want you to tell me that you love me… but you won’t, and I know you won’t because life isn’t simple, and neither is this relationship. It hurts me. It hurts me to think about it, about us, about all the times you’ve opened up and poured your heart and soul to some stranger you’ve never met. What hurts the most is that I feel like you disappear without a trace, only to spend time with someone else. The last thing I want to be is needy, but I care about us, about you. I miss talking to you. It was one of the most simple joys in the world. It gave me purpose and a reason to get out of bed in the mornings. I know I’m not perfect and I’m sorry for making it awkward by telling you I love you so much. You have every reason to think I’m strange, and you have every right to not want to talk to me, and I’m really sorry that this message has been going on so long but I just wanted to wish you sweet dreams. I miss you and we should hang out sometime.

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