At this moment I should be happy about the outcome of my life, happy about the choices I have made, happy that I have pieces of the puzzle almost back to normal but instead of happiness, I find myself overcome with insecurity. I haven't even began the new year and I already dread it.
I can't believe I am here, at this moment, because of the same emotions I had last year.
Because of the same longing and the same desire.
I crave to be needed but I never devour it. I always desire from another and another and another until I am no longer sure what I am doing.
I will be okay at figuring this out, at reworking and redoing, but right now my heart is still in a fragile state and every action I do has repercussions for the heart I didn't want.
I need to write every day like I did years, just to clear my mind. I believe I have Writers Block, however, and it may take an enormous effort to get back to where I was.
I will do it though, one day at a time, I will discover whom I am and the purpose of my existence.
-R
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My heart on my sleeve, my life on a string; These are the words of a poet, living life through insecurities.
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