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but to be loved

i've been thinking about writing down what i want... from life, i guess. and i'm unexpectedly conflicted about it. it's kind of a frightening thing. maybe that's because i don't want to admit what i want. maybe that's because, for some reason or another, i don't want to let go of what i don't want. after all, it seems that is what has been driving me for... as long as i can remember, i guess. i don't know the last time i felt like i had an enduring sense of purpose that properly drove me. i remember times when i followed a distant light (namely the sense of righteous purpose i felt when i took the gospel seriously), but i don't trust my own honesty with myself in those times. looking back, i see a boy who--more than anything--feared falling short of the expectations of others. and not only do i doubt the conviction of my former faith, but i am also aware of its fleeting nature. i clung to god most when i was frightened. the fear of the abyss within me drove me from behind. seldom did i feel like i was pulled forward by divine promise.

and this tells of a larger theme in my life. one that prevails now even when i've left god behind. i am not pulled forward by anything; i am pushed reluctantly forward (to whatever degree i move forward at all) by fear of what might happen if i stay where i am. i don't believe in the reliability of standing still. things fall apart. when have i ever reliably been pulled toward something that was meaningful to me? again, my desires are fleeting--barely desires at all. they are perhaps more accurately described as whims. i admit now, still reluctantly, that this may simply be the way my brain is wired: to float from one desire to the next, forgetting in one moment what captivated me in the last. but this admission does nothing to ease the burden of the fact that i've never wanted anything...

but in saying so i fail to be honest with myself. i've never wanted anything, but to be loved. the singular thread through the ebb and flow of my motivations has been a silent desperation to be fully understood, and cherished as i am. i have always known my imperfection. it's haunted me at times, consumed me at times. it has never eluded me. i want to be accepted anyway. and not just accepted, but chosen. too many people--people who i loved, people who were supposed to love me--have come and gone. i have been left behind by parents, grandparents, friends, and lovers. love in my life is like the moon, rising and falling in a multitude of shapes and sizes and colors. yes, the moon always returns eventually. but it never just... stays. on some long, cold, dark nights, it never shines at all. the one thing i want is something i know i can't depend on. i accept now, all too casually i fear, that people are but moments in my life. but i don't want it to be that way. i want someone to come and lie with me in the opaque darkness as the nights pass one moon at a time. just one person. just one person to hold and know without reservation that i can trust to stay.

again i must admit of some dishonesty. i have a loving mother. i have a family who loves me, torn and scattered as that family is. and i am more grateful for them than anything else in my life. but a mother and brothers and sisters are no substitute for a companion. i confide in no one. i cleave to no one. i hold no one, and am held by no one. i carry on clinging to the fading hope of something i don't know i can believe in. how long can that last?

i do believe in looking into the abyss. i do believe in fighting the demons i find within. but what a sad way to live: to be motivated only by the disgust i have for myself! i don't like that at all, and i don't want to live like that. yet every day i find myself wading laboriously, slowly, poorly, in the fear of my own weakness. i do not feel strong. i do not feel as though i'm fighting nobly against some evil. if i did, maybe i could find some gratification or meaning in the struggle. i am treading, tired, head barely above the water. i have gotten better at it these last few years, forced to face being alone. even before i was single, i felt alone. my previous love never really gave me what i needed. i always felt i had to hide some part of myself, and if i ever bared myself fully, she too would leave. eventually, she did. as did the love before her. as did the love before her. i give myself to somebody and inevitably they turn their back on me.

how can i live a life motivated by such feelings? how long can i live like this? i don't want to end my life, not anymore anyway. but its sad, existing this way.

so a part of me says, 'run toward the potential of the future! spread your wings and chase the sun across the sky!' but the days are short now, and the sun sets as surely as the moon. i have had dreams. i have dreamt of being a doctor, a lawyer, a writer, a professor, and much more. but these dreams pass faster than the moments of love. i can't say i have ever been truly drawn to any career, and in fact i have always had some degree of disdain for the idea that i ought to be motivated by a career. its a bit vulgar, i think, to be driven by the thought of achievement; to fellate oneself at the prospect of one's own greatness. i don't need to be great. i need to feel fucking safe. i need to feel like everything i have worked or fought or suffered for or held dear won't one day slip through my fingers. maybe that's an unrealistic need. maybe it's just as delusional to believe i can hold on to anything as it is to believe in my ability to become 'great'. maybe i should listen to myself when i assert that 'things fall apart', and realize that to expect anything different is absurd. but existence itself is absurd, and i need what i need.

[zeffevnon]

LOVE ME

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via weheartit

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artist: sacrée frangine

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You are worth loving

wanting,

knowing, and

fighting, and

sticking around for—

your worth

is your own.

Hold precious

those things

that others don’t see—

that cause you to be

who you are

because you

are worth loving.

People may go.

They may not know

the things that are so

incredible

about you, but you

do.

Your value

is yours.

They can’t take it,

or shake it

or make it

less than it is

because it comes from you.

Not them.

And you

deserve the love you do

from you too.

But be mindful.

People may hate you

for exposing the well—

the hell

where they fell

and lost themselves.

But fuck them.

You are worth loving.

The love you give to those you choose, that rich and full and relentless love—in spite of fault, misdeed, or failure, is the very love you deserve. That the people we care about come and go is perhaps the most tragic fact of life, but it is, in fact, a fact. It is a fact we must accept and learn to live with. It is precisely for that reason that you must learn to grant yourself the love you deserve, and to accept that love from yourself. Move the locus of your value away from others, and root it deeply within yourself. That way, no matter who comes or goes in your life, you will always know that you are, without a doubt, worth loving.

[zeffevnon]

💔

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“Our current mental-hygiene philosophy stresses the idea that people ought to be happy, that unhappiness is a symptom of maladjustment. Such a value system might be responsible for the fact that the burden of unavoidable unhappiness is increased by unhappiness about being unhappy.”

— Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning (via books-n-quotes)

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“I thought, possibly, that what I really needed was to go where nobody knew me and start over again, with none of my previous decisions, conversations, or expectations coming with me.”

— Maggie Stiefvater, Forever (via books-n-quotes)

So I don’t forget

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