April 25, 2019

A Life Of Always Wondering

Even as a child I would just stare at the sky & wonder what my life is going to be like.

I find myself still doing that. Does that mean I’m a failure? Because I’m still unhappy? Did I fail myself at creating a happy life? A rewarding life? Did I depend on others too much for happiness? Probably.

I’ve always kinda had the same dreams, they change slightly but the main goal is still the same. It seems every time I’m working towards them everything that could go wrong, goes wrong with a vengeful plot against me from hell.

I’ve really tried all my life to be a good person. I was raised that way & even the times I was a bitch I would go back & make it right. Guilt eats me alive so I just don’t do anything intentional to start with.

Sometimes I wish I never moved to Georgia when I was a teenager. Its been hell ever since. I’m not saying it wouldn’t of been hell there, its just that there’s so much that’s went crazy since I’ve been living here. I automatically blame the move because we always blame something right?

I watched my mom growing up searching for the love of a man. I heard her crying herself to sleep so many times. I felt bad even though then I didn’t quite fully understand it. Coming home from school & her sitting in the living room with makeup streaming down her face because another one broke her heart. I’d run up to her & hold her. I’d make coffee, hand her tissues, talk about how her day was to get her mind off of whatever or whoever was making her sad. She would just look at me & smile through the tears & say, “I love you honey”.

I was always wondering if my life would be the same. Are men going to treat me the same way all of my life? At this point I had already been molested, raped, sodomized, beaten by a man as a child between the ages of 6-8, previous years before I took notice of my moms troubles.

I had many years in between then & now. Some great, most I don’t even want to talk about.

Today I will still sit on my porch & stare at the same big sky wondering if someone will ever love me. If someone will ever show me that I’m something to them. If someone will never make me cry like my mom did.

I’m crying like she did, I have been for years. I’ve tried so hard to not live the life she did but I guess we can’t predict our futures like we’d like to.

I don’t reckon I’m blaming any man except the one that abused me. You cannot expect others to love you or even like you.

After breakups I used to think I was replaceable so easily & not worth nothing but the ex’s are single today. If someone was better than me, wouldn’t they be in another relationship? I’m not perfect but I do know who I am. I do know my worth. And I do know I am rare. I’m rare because most women I notice are so lazy. They’re cheaters, liars, doped up, just out for some money or what they can get from a man. I have lazy days & sometimes lazy weeks but I don’t need a man to give me everything, I know I can get it by myself & that reward is a better feeling than it being handed to me.

I don’t have many friends anymore because everyone turns out to be so fake that I just avoid people in general.

But above all I just want to be able to give the love I have to someone wide open. I don’t want to have to hold it back anymore. I don’t want ‘me’ remaining hidden til I die. I mean all of me. Hobbies, likes, dislikes, talents or interests, dark secrets of my life, sexual shades of myself (its a big deal to me, it can not be abused), & simple things the little things. All of me. I know everything about me obviously & I want to open full force without looking stupid for doing so to someone that understands me & loves all of it about me.

I don’t want to sit & cry all the time. I want to be happy & be myself wide damn open. It takes a lot of trust to do that. Over the years I’ve learned that. I reveal one tiny thing & it immediately was abused. So I shut down. Some things are revealed in some of the stories I write, it was the only way to release them. Its not just the sexual stuff, its everything about me. Everything.

I find it so strange as I get older. Wants & needs never change as I’m changing in years. I’m still hoping & searching for that peace, that trust, that love, that someone who says, “I want it all, give it to me”, & allows me to trust & do just that.

I don’t think I’m asking for too much. I’ve wished & prayed & hoped & longed for it most of my life. To not cry like momma, to love & be loved, to trust fully, to depend on without a doubt, to open up fully to, to talk to without criticism, to be their light & not live in their shadow. To be the one that they look at like I do them & trust in all the same ways.

I’m not angry for all the bad stuff that was done to me, some of it bothers me & probably will for life. But for the rest of my life I want maturity & happiness.

I want the real with no more wondering anymore. Life is short, so short.

Lori

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