I guess I’ve taken care of everyone else for so long that I forgot how to let others help. I’ve been the bread winner since before a kid should understand what that means. Now, I have to really just trust that he can do this, trust that he can help me achieve my dreams. I don’t even think I remember how to trust.
I have become so jaded working at that shit hole that I forgot how to show affection. I think back to the time where my best friends told me that to define me would be the same as defining love. That my name ought to simply be Love, because that was all I was and all I knew. Now if I could be defined by any one word it would be hollow. Empty inside with this 100ft tall barricade to guard the shell that hides the fact that there is nothing inside. No adorations no hopes, not even fears in there because there is no one left to lose and no one left to fight and no one left to fight for, I am empty in here.
And every little bitty piece I have left is broken shards with sharp edges that are ready to be made into daggers but hoping just to be put back together.
If time machines existed, I wouldn’t go back to change anything, I’d go back to ask myself what Love is, what it was, and try to remember how it all made sense that people could be good and nature could be held and imagination was my escape and hearts were never broken but sometimes the stitching just came loose.
And I’d find a needle and some thread and hand it to you.