Wrong People, Wrong Place

But I’m a sad girl. In her I don’t know if I’ll ever be healed enough to ever let anyone close to me.

I’m an obsessive girl who can even beat the very thing she wants into the ground until it’s bloody and unrecognizable.

And suddenly I’m 17 again.

And 24.

“You just haven’t met the right person.”

“You just haven’t met the right type of person.”

“You’re gonna break the cycle.”

“It’ll happen when you least expect it.”

I get what you’re trying to do and I’m grateful but like maybe… Just maybe, I’m supposed to just endure the longing. Maybe I’m supposed to make it without that kind of connection to anyone. Because for more than half my life it’s all I’ve wanted and it hasn’t happened. Despite my efforts.

Maybe I’m tired of fucking waiting and stupid ass trial and error.

Maybe I’m just a fucking horrible unworthy undeserving person.

Maybe I’m too fucking desperate.

Maybe I’m too fucking damaged. Too fucking sad. Too fucking fat. Maybe I’m as fucking ugly as I feel all the fucking time.