But that’s what I think I’m doing.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted someone to love me. To love me for who I am, unconditionally.
I used to think that maybe my father would love me if I just tried harder and listened better and was more of the perfect daughter. I thought that if I got straight A’s and graduated high school and went to college that the abuse would stop. It didn’t.
I used to think that my mother would one day love me more than him, and stand up for me when she knew damn well that I was right. I thought that she’d realize that telling your daughter you will always love your husband more than her was wrong and that she’d apologize and we could go have our own life, away from him. She didn’t.
So, at 19 years old, I left. And I thought for the first time, I would be happy. I had changed majors – found a new dream, my boyfriend and his family were letting me live with them, I thought that everything in my life would change. It didn’t.
I’m sitting here, on the couch, at yet another crossroads (I’ve had far too many of those in my relatively short life). Well, technically I suppose this is more of a love-seat.
Fuck that. I’m tired of wanting someone to love me. I’m tired of holding on to the past and chasing waterfalls.
But it’s so hard.
He was the only one who ever believed in me. He was the first person I thought I could cry in front of (and, as of recently, I cry a lot). He made me feel special and safe and closer to normal and, at peace.
End scene. Break-up. Fast forward through a few months of hell and mistakes and tears and shouting and here I am, alone in the house that I wanted to be my home, still crying.
Maybe it was all a lie. Maybe I don’t even have a fucking waterfall to chase. Maybe I was so desperate for love that I made myself see it when it wasn’t there.
Do I even know what love is?
I’m not sure, but I have an idea, and I want to find out. I need to find out. Because these almost 20 loveless years, are taking their toll. Right now, I’d really like to throw myself over that damn waterfall I keep chasing.
But I know I’ll keep going. One day, I won’t need to, because I’ll have love and a home and someone to support me, but until then, I’ll just have to keep trying to get through this alone.
Just like always. Alone.
I wanted this to be different, though. I had hoped so badly that I would have him to help me, to tell me everything was going to be okay. And I know I don’t need him, I just want him, because I should be strong enough to go it by myself. I am, after all, an adult, and I can’t use my past as an excuse. I can’t keep thinking about what could have been or what would be different or any of that. It’s not actually the end of the world, of course. Far from it. And one day I’ll look back and think, “Gee, that really made me stronger.”
But this is today, and today I’m alone, chasing waterfalls and dreaming of the love that I’ve never known.
Well, not really. That’s far too poetic.
Today I’m alone, trying to figure out how I’m going to survive staying (because I know I can’t survive leaving), curled up in a ball on a love-seat hiding under the blankets, crying like there’s no tomorrow and writing this letter.
I’m afraid that this, is the closest thing to love I have. That this is the closest I’m ever going to get to having someone to listen to me and care about me.
So, thank you, all of you. For giving a loveless girl a little bit of something like love.