#lostthatlovingfeeling

I was catching up on my blog reading this morning when I read a post about why someone writes. She ended her post by asking why I write. So not something I wanted to think about. Here’s the dirty little secret I’ve been wrestling with but I haven’t shared with anyone…Ever since I published that desperate driving desire to write and publish has been satiated. I’m not sure why I write anymore. That…

{Hall & Oates}

I've noticed that a lot lately. People are starting to avoid me because they assume I'm just totally bitter. I have my reasons. I'm not a terrible person...if I can save other people from going through the same shit as I've been through, I'm happy to help - or at least attempt to shed some light on the situation. However, sometimes, the best way to learn is to do it yourself...because there is no lesson completely learnt until you've hit your head against the wall...right? 

I think back to different times on my life and where this certain bitterness may have been bred. I can probably list a handful of very serious situations that definitely attributed to this, but I only realise this in hindsight - and that's the strange and wonderful thing about hindsight, you don't realise until it's too late. But you get up, you wipe the dust off your shoulders and you move on. Or at least you attempt to. 

You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips And there's no tenderness like before in your finger tips You're trying hard not to show it (baby) But baby, baby I know it You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling                                            

I start to wonder when it is exactly that I began to lose that loving feeling...or if I ever really had it to begin with. My parents aren't very affectionate, maybe that has something to do with it? What most people don't know is that secretely I love affection, but I act like I don't. I'm only human. We all love it and we all want it. No matter how much we put on a brave face or brag about our tough exteriors. 

I love a kiss and a hug as much as the next person. But it seems to happen so few and far between that I start to forget what it feels like. I even find myself craving it from people I don't even like much in my attempt to feel something, anything. The problem with that is I just feel empty for stooping so low and I don't even remember it as actually happening because I dislike myself for doing it. It can end up in a sick and twisted cycle. 

What happened to the young and innocent girl who believed that things like love at first sight were possible? Or to the girl who always imagined she'd get married and raise a beautiful family. 

Part of what happened is life. Human interaction. The low self esteem you harbour allows other people's personal point of views to dominate your own. The people who psychologically mess with your mind. Who play with your bruised ego for fun. 

Bring back that lovin' feeling 'cause it's gone gone gone...