I chose this name to write under because I'm finding it harder and harder to accept that this is my life, this is all there is and all there will be for the rest of my life.
I wondered if this was depression.
It isn't, it's reality.
The reality of my life is that I will never have what I need to make me happy.
Much of it is due to bad choices I made.
Much of it is due to my upbringing, a childhood filled with fear and sadness.
No love. No tender moments. No lovely memories.
No guidance.
A child cannot raise herself. She must be taught how to love.
If she is never hugged, she never learns to hug.
If she never sees a smile, she can't smile or respond to a smile.
If there are no loving touches, she recoils from every touch.
When I chose to be with you I thought the loving person you were was the person I wanted to spend my life with.
You weren't loving. You were smothering.
You had no patience with the person I was.
I had to change immediately, before I learned how to change.
I had to love you as much as you loved me, but I didn't know how to love anyone.
Last night you joked that I stay with you only because I know how much you adore me and wouldn't be able to live without me.
Yes.



