i wouldnt be scared if i had nothing to lose.

sometimes i really wonder what this life is all about. i mean, this is not a new question. i realize. i am not the first, nor will i be the last to ask it. but i think it is a different answer for every person. so what is it for me? i smile with a taste of bitter at how simple my answers used to be. I loved much easier then. why am i different now? i have known pain. i have tasted the harshest of rejection and carry my scars as badges. look at how strong i am. look at what i've been through. look at what i've done. look at me. my badges do nothing to fight the insecurities. daily, that unkind, unwavering question presents itself ... am i enough? and daily, i met a hollow, resounding no. what must it take for me to accept myself? i attempt severance. oh how i want to not care. how i wish i was not fragile nor broken. but i am, dammit. i am in pieces. i have this shell that i reside in but it houses pieces, not a whole. sometimes, i feel as though i'm bleeding out. i have been an open wound the last few weeks. it keeps showing at the most inopportune times. i don't want to need you. i don't want to need anyone. but i can't help it, it seems. you fill the spot to make me feel like me. i have not found the balance of too much versus not enough. am i too much for you? perhaps my brokenness is and consequently it leaves too little of me to satisfy your need. i will not be this way forever. im sorry i came to you in bits. you'll just have to put me back together again. but that's not truly up to you. i know it and you know it. but sometimes i like to pretend. sometimes, it's so much easier to think that you're not doing your job when actually i'm not doing mine. this mess is mine. not yours. you may help me make a masterpiece of it. but in the end, i get the credit. i didn't break it. i'm just the one left holding the pieces. you hurt me from ignorance. you don't know what this feels like. so all i'm asking is believe in me. your job is to remind me of what the picture is supposed to look like. sometimes i forget and i get crabby and i get needy and i demand more then you can give. and then i retreat and i get pathetic and weepy, and even more needy. it's just because im hurting some more. it's because my pieces are showing. remember that game we used to play where we were doctors and we operated on people? well i feel like that guy with all the glass in his heart. it was all sticking out and sharp. that's me on the inside. and i keep it covered because if i just walked around with a gaping wound that looked as scary as that heart did, people would head for the hills. so i reserve it for a select few. mainly you. and sometimes i think that those closest to my heart get cut too. please understand that i don't want you so close. not because i don't want you but because i am the phantom, with my disfigurement hidden beneath a mask. i look at myself and i see myself through the eyes of rejection. i feel the cloak of unworthiness heavy on my shoulders and i am crowned the queen of the unlovelies. when i look at myself, i see my scars. my mask is not fake. so fear not. it is a perfect rendition of what i am working on becoming, on who i want to be. i dont want make this your mess. but i so desperately need to be known as i am. i search your eyes to find my completion. to remind me of what the picture is supposed to look like. i am still healing and not all wounds are permanent. i wish i could wear my mask around you. i wish i could leave my vulnerability at the door and drown in the deliciousness we've found in this love of ours. it's not that i want to hide from you. it's just that i couldn't bear for the moment when the mask is forgotten or cast aside unexpectedly and you caught a glimpse of what lies beneath. if you can't love my ugly, then my beauty has nothing for you. unfortunately, it includes all of my scars and the ones still healing. i've come so far in a short time. maybe you can't see that but i have. and i'm not finished yet. so all of this was simply to ask that you be patient. remind me of the girl i am. you have seen me. you know who i am. sometimes, when the pain is too much, i forget. and that's where i seem to find myself these days. and maybe all i needed was to think things through and write it out. maybe i'll find myself out of this funk. but maybe i won't. at least not today. but at least you know whats going on and why.
i love you.
with more love then i ever thought this broken pot could contain,
-me