I know I'm hard to understand. I know I'm full of contradictions and opposites and riddles. I know I don't make it easy to get close to me and I know I make it hard to get away.
Stand too close and I craw at my throat. I push you away. I suffocate on your consideration and attention.
Stand too far and I choke on the space between us. I reach with weak hands across the void. I drown in the loneliness that seeps from my heart.
Am I picky for wanting someone who knows how and when to give me space without the weight of abandonment crushing me beneath it? For wanting someone who sees through the mask I paint on each day? For wanting something I'm not so sure exists?
I've lived a life full of loneliness. People come for a season and only stay for a day. I've spent a lot of my time wondering who still thinks of me when I still think of everyone.
Am I high maintenance for wanting someone who understands that fear? For wanting someone who isn't afraid to stay? For wanting someone who knows that when I push, it's just self preservation not me wanting isolation?
I feel like an island where people stop for a moment of rest before they head home for good. I feel like the moment of reprieve on a long journey that doesn't quite satiate you because it's not quite home, not yet. I feel like the space between foreign soil and familiar land, the space where no one waits too long.
Am I wrong for wanting someone to land here and feel like they've finally come home? For wanting to pull up my roots and land somewhere solid for myself instead of floating in the ocean?
I feel and I feel and I feel and the feelings are like waves, pulling and pushing and rolling over me all out of my control. Somedays I feel like a rock, solid and firm and standing my ground against them. Somedays I don't even know how to swim. I just need someone who can teach me to tread the water and then pull me up into a boat. I just need a steady hand, a space between me and the water, a moment to breathe.
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