I want love. Real love. The kind of love that feels like coming home. The kind of love that makes you look forward to their presence because they calm your soul. I don't want to pretend to be in love. I don't want to be an actor playing a part in my own life. I want someone who sees my darkness and accepts me for it. How long am I supposed to pretend that it doesn't bother me that I can't share vast parts of myself with you? How long am I supposed to bleed in silence? How long am I supposed to be okay with knowing that there is nothing about me that you truly love? I am alone - worse than alone because if I was truly alone, I could at least have a chance to be myself without guilt and shame and criticism. Instead, I am alone in the worst possible way. I am alone with you. Your disappointment, and indifference, and disdain shroud me so completely that I feel invisible even to myself. I want love but all I have is you.

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