Sometimes it all seems so hopeless. I lose all my hope in actually meaning something to someone. I don't want to do it again. I don't want to open myself up. I'm so scared of being broken. It's like no one can see me. Or more like no one wants to see me. I've given up on believing that a man is capable of real love. I know that's a horribly unfair and biased thing to say, but all that I have experienced has been proof of it. Maybe I have it all drastically wrong. Maybe it's me. Maybe I am incapable of being loved.
Men are interested in getting inside me, but not in my head or my heart. They only want to get into me in the physical sense. It hurts. It makes me feel so frail and weak and worthless to know that I am unable to have the same worth to a guy as his guitar. Reality has tilted and I have become the object. And maybe the guy is even fooling himself that wanting me physically is the same thing as love. It's not… and I'm still broken. I feel so empty to know that is all there is. A man only will want me until he gets what he wants leaving me to feel like there should still be something more. I suppose I should be happy that at least one of us will be satisfied with that. At least I can eventually give gratification.
I look into the face of so many people and it breaks my heart. I can see so much of the pain that they are living with and all I want to do is pick up all the pieces of their life and put it back together for them. I want to hold on to them and make it all ok. I don't make a habit of asking for it in return but that's what I long for. Someone to hold me and help me put myself back together. I don't believe that there is a man who actually desires to see me healed. No one who cares to rescue me from a car crash or protect me from the monsters under my bed. It's just too much work.
There is something under this flesh of mine. Something inside the bones. A heart that is beating. A mind. A shattered soul. I don't know what it has been about these past few days that is making me feel like I'm falling apart. I might look happy, like I have it all together, but I don't.
I don't want the rain to stop. Or this song. Repeat one more time… and another. It sounds so beautiful with the hush of the rain. "Leaving things is just too hard for me." Do I want a request for forgiveness? An acknowledgement of hurt caused? Or do I just acquiesce to my own pain? I've held off these tears for far too long and my mind needs to be washed as clean as the earth in the rain. But letting the rain drip off my finger tips as the tears drip off my cheeks doesn't make me feel anymore put together or any less alone. And deep down, I fear that I never will.
CLOSING THOUGHT: Could I ever be as precious as a guitar?
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