Don’t Know What To Name This Piece.
By Aqua Skies
What is it about affection that makes us thirsty?
To crave for it more?
What is so addicting about the validation to exist?
What drives us to shower people that we care about with nice
words and kind gestures.
With warm embraces, gentle touches?
To drape a blanket over their cold bodies…
To make soups for them when they are unwell…
To holding them closer to our chests when they are crying…
To take vicious blows to our self-esteems just so they will
feel better…
What is it this infatuation with caring that makes us say
things which we might not mean but we say it anyway because we know that the
person we care for needs to hear it…
We do things with carefulness almost tenderly.
Why?
What drives us?
Is it the everlasting need for validation or is it something
else?
Something raw, something primal?
Is it about that warm fuzzy feeling inside our chests that
makes us swell with self-assurances that this person makes us whole in some
sort of way?
Even when we know that they can shatter our hearts into
billion pieces…
And it does. Countless billion times but one conversation
with a laugh and before we know it we fall back into the same old patterns.
We keep loving them, over and over and over again but we
over look one major thing.
We aren’t getting that love back; we see everything with
rose colored glasses we see everything that we are feeling but the truth is far
from it.
They don’t consider us that important but we keep allowing
them to use us and that is sad. Plain sad it’s not even stupid because loving
someone isn’t stupid, loving someone is beautiful, love is pure.
We have to agree to the fact that maybe it is about having
someone to care for us and us caring for someone else.
For me I think it’s both.
Unfortunately, I am cursed with caring for others maybe
sometimes if I’m lucky and the universe is feeling kind I get that warm fuzzy
feeling which is commonly fleeting in nature.
Rarely I’m blessed with the person I deeply care for, caring
back for me… it is usually so brief that it feels almost non-existent.
So what am I even doing this for?
I find myself asking this to myself whenever I feel hurt or
when my heart gets broken which seems to be more than usual…
I wonder and wonder and wonder, until I can think no more,
sometimes, cry no more.
What am I doing?
What is my purpose if not to love? If it’s not to nurture?
Am I here to live my best life or am I here for a greater
purpose?
I don’t know, but one day I might figure it out.
But that day feels, far, far away.
I don’t need a bigger purpose nor do I need to have a look
at the bigger picture because I know what I am doing is right.
What I am, is okay…
Everyone must have their opinions of me and it’s only
natural that they do, people hate what they don’t comprehend and someone people
like things they don’t know much about the latter is about them being
fascinated about the things they aren’t well versed with.
My fault is that I care. I care what other think of me. I
know what they think is up to them and what I think is up to me. I know this
very well more than I should be agreeing to but that is the harsh reality for
me. A reality that I can’t out run.
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