Sometimes late at night, when He comes to bed, I don’t move, if He puts his hand on me. I take it’s warmth. And sometimes, if He falls asleep before I do, I reach out and touch Him. Just to feel a body. Sometimes I miss human touch too much.
I’m told that even as a baby I always wanted more – more attention, more love, more affection. I never had enough. I felt ashamed when listening to that. I felt as if it is a fault, as if I did something wrong.
I am still the same. And I still feel the same. Ashamed of how much I crave to be loved. Feeling guilty of wanting to be someone important and valued. I try to hide my need to be the one someone devotes their time to.
Every time I want to say “I need you” I feel like I’m too needy. Every time I feel sad and lonely and desperate, I feel almost disgusted by myself – for being weak, for wanting someone, for missing affection, for… For wanting love.
And yet, a part deep in me, a part I want to silence, wonders if it really is such a fault, if it really is wrong, if I am damaged. A part of me feels like it’s right to want and need. A part of me cries.
The part of me that wants to be adult and grown up and reasonable says I should accept what is. A part of me that wants to feel safe and sheltered wants to learn not to want and feel. A part of me wants to die.
That part I buried and hide wonders: if I need to kill a part of myself to be as I should be, is it really right?
I’m not that naïve. I do not expect anything anymore. That’s ok. It’s not a nice thing to know, it’s not easy to accept, but it is what it is. Wanting is not the same as expecting. The hard part is to convince myself, convince to change my heart. That tiny part of me wonders, if by changing it I won’t kill all that I am.
If I stop wanting to be loved, will I kill the love in me?
Alenka H., 2022