I have a question for someone. I’ve already asked the question many times in my life. I’ve gotten no good answer. No honest thing. No great detail. And so I sit, in pain craving for a true moment with someone who respects me enough to be true, brave enough to apologize, strong enough to offer a hug. I wished often in my time, hoping to find someone who had a big heart and who would never lie and who would be a guide. I hurt a lot of the time because this yearning for an honest moment with a kind person with a pure heart doesn’t happen often. I miss myself in others, I miss my heart in the right human. I want more of me here. It feels so lonely. I cry in quiet often feeling the disappointment of those who I want to be better for me and for the world. Then I feel pressure and perfection on self wanting to overcompensate for the lack of in many situations. Sit there quiet to account for another’s lack of active listening. Sit there optimistic to account for the lack of appreciation. Looking like a fool tied to attachments brought on by those who don’t account for their own crosses. Feeling judgement by those who literally misread their fortunes and profit on their inaccuracies. Slandered by those who lack insight and capacity to reflect. They are lacking care in all facets. And I’m left without the right number to call, the name to sing, the bad page to write, in wondering if someone will wonder enough to read this sometime. To not feel immediate intimidation or envy, to not be immediate repulse or scary, to not think up that we are opposition within the same family. This hurts. This is not in effort to be passive aggressive. This in hopes to be clear as clean water, and free as fresh air. I need to be the way that I am in order for the good things here to be great things soon. I’d like to say you’ll realize someday how you missed out on a valuable person, and that you’ll realize what harm you tried to do in being so disrespectful and so disappointing. It’s just that I don’t think you are aware of your ways and which route is actually yours. This is not aggressive, this is disciplined. This is not passive, this is resistant. Sometimes I think writing is what pain is good for?
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