Day Two
Hundred and Seventy-Four: That Tall
Drink of Water…
Sometimes I
have a hard time coming home and comforting myself. Is that a weird thing to say? I don’t want to come home and have to call a
family member or text a friend. And part
of me doesn’t even want that relationship, doesn’t want to talk. A part of me just wants the comfort of
someone else, someone to not say a thing but just through a hug feel as though
everything will be alright. Sometimes I
think that friends and family can do that, but true satisfaction of comfort
comes through an intimate relationship. Someone who knows you so well that with
one look they just know that it is time for silence and comfort. At this point all that I’ve got is a Primark
jumper and Netflix. This is what my life
is right now, and sometimes I just wish I didn’t have to come home to comfort
myself.
Does that
make me dependent? No. It makes me strong and sensible and capable
of having vulnerable feelings. I don’t
need an intimate relationship to feel validated, or successful or strong, but
sometimes I wouldn’t mind giving myself a break once in a while. Strength can only last so long, this face can
only fight the world for so long before it needs a moment to recharge. Sometimes I just would like someone to be
able to be strong for me so I could take a little break.
This all
came out kind of strange, but it’s how I feel right now. I’m going to get into bed and comfort
myself..
x
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