I have always felt rejected that I tell myself it is nothing new. I grew up always overshadowed by siblings who shone like the sun in my parents' eyes. They could do no wrong. For a time I struggled to gain recognition until I just learned to let go. Finally realizing it was not worth the trouble.
The funny thing is... although I have accepted that I will never measure up... it didn't change the way it hurt. The pain of knowing you don't have anyone who's got your back. And so I grew up reclused and reserved, trusting only a handful of people who have managed to pierce through the quiet and cold shell of a person I portrayed.
I never liked crowds. I always thought I just needed one person, one. And I would pin all my hopes on that one person I was committed to.
But sometimes, most days, the darkness became too real. And I ended up alone again.
I have raised my sons on my own, with no emotional support. When they said that it takes a village to raise a child, I became that village. They became the only reason why I remained.
And then she came along. And she reminded me that I was still my own person. That I was allowed to feel. And that the darkness was something I didn't have to fight on my own. I thought I finally found my person. The one. Until she too left.
Move on... because there is no other choice. Keep moving. Because that is what is expected.
But I am tired. And I want to throw in the towel. Because every day is a bigger struggle than the last. And although I am with someone new... she has never been my person either.
It is gut-wrenching to know that love really is never enough. And only the dead are appreciated and revered.
I had hoped though... until I could hope no more. Until it was clear. There was no hope for me. There is no one for me.
And though you all claim that you are here... no one really is here to talk when you need to. They will take it against you when you speak. They will use their pain as a defense... so don't even bother asking.
And so you yell and scream at the top of your lungs as a last-ditch effort for someone... anyone to look your way and see all the red flags that you've been waiving. All the "I NEED HELP" cues.
So maybe this is the end... even when I try to convince myself every day that this is not how it ends. But that is how it is... they listen when you are long gone. They ask the questions when you have stopped living. They tell you you are worth it when you no longer occupy space. They wish for you when you've become a fading memory.
So remind me...
Is this how it all ends?
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