Hurt and Healing

My horrible rendering of an oncoming train.

It sometimes amazes me the speed at which I will run towards an oncoming train. Of course, I have never actually ran towards a train, but other things that could hurt me just as much often seem so appealing.

Is it human nature to hurt ourselves? Is the chaos complex built into each and every one of us? Why am I my biggest fear? There are so many people who feel as I do, but no one else will dare admit to it. I always go chasing after that which eludes me the most: the love I never feel.

I cannot see that I am the one who needs to love me. I need to tell me I am all right. If I take care of me, then no one else will need to, and I will be free to be loved by whomever is meant to be my one and only. Each time I thought I’d found him, I was a child playing games. Then I though I’d finally found him, but I caused him too much grief. I hurt him so much he couldn’t stand it any longer, I pushed him away, so he made me leave.

Now I am oh-so-lonely, and I don’t know what to do with myself. I must learn to live again, to be comfortable in my own skin. Only then will I love me, and when I love me he, whomever he may be, will have no choice but to love me. But how do I love me?

I must discover what I don’t like and fix it. I must also discover who I am and love her. I don’t like my weight, so I can exercise. I don’t like my “dark side” so I must find my inner child and tell her to get the fuck over it. I must learn not to be so insecure, and not to let others get to me, and not to think about what other people are thinking about.

As for who I am, self discovery is a journey that could take years. I know I am an artist. I know I am a Nomad. I know I have great eyes. I know I am able to make great sacrifices for the ones I love. I am 5’7″. I have a woman’s curves. I have brown eyes and naturally I’m a dirty blond. I am rustic and natural and passive/aggressive, but most of all I am me. I am me, and that’s all I’ll ever be.

Pink–…where I can run to the middle of nowhere, to the middle of my frustrated fears, and I swear you’re just like a pill steada makin me better you’re makin me ill, makin me ill!

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