Sometimes, I don't have anything to say. I just want company. I just want love. I just want to be held. To be mothered/sistered. I just want to know I'm not alone.
That's all.
I can search Google for advice. But Google cannot replace the human touch, the capacity to care. Google does not care about me. Though, frankly, I wonder if they care all that much more than Google (Not fair. I know. But this is my blog and I can be as fucking unfair as I want to be. Gosh, Trace, why are you fucking fighting with yourself on YOUR blog which virtually no one even sees unless YOU FUCKING SHOW THEM).
Sometimes I just want to sit in silence. Or watch a movie. I rant because it is expected. It is the only way I know to show that I need someone, something...a distraction, a companion, a hug. That is all.
I feel as though "anytime, Tracy" only means "anytime when it's convenient." I hate being a burden, yet I wish I felt as though it would be OK to be one from time to time. I wish people would just tell me when I'm inconveniencing them. Tell me that that yes, they have homework to do or boyfriends to occupy, but that it's OK. That being inconvenienced sometimes is worth it?
My fear is that it isn't.
I do not know how to ask for what I want. I feel strange asking someone to sit with me, to hold me. Yet, most of the time, that is really all I want. So simple yet I cannot voice it. Cannot put words to this ache I'm feeling.
Earlier this evening, when no one was answering their phones or their doors, I heard myself shrieking, "I want my mommy!" She understands this primal urge for touch. She always knows to hold me when words don't can't work. But Mommy can't help me now. As much as she loves me, she must hold up Daddy. I must hold her...
But I also have to hold myself up. And that's growing difficult.
Shame. That's pretty much it. I am ashamed to ask. Embarrassed. I get angry because they don't realize. But it's not their fault. They don't know what I'm not asking because I'm not asking it because I am ashamed because I am certain I am being melodramatic and because I just "know" they will tell me to fuck off, maybe not with what they say, but with what they don't.
They are doing what they can. Their responses to my rants are logical enough. And the advice is usually really good. OK, so it's not always something I could get from Google, and there's certainly a time and a place for advice. I like advice. I suppose I even need it (gee, here I go arguing with myself AGAIN). After all, it usually does make me stop, think, and consider my actions. Eventually it sinks in. Eventually it may lead me to make a change (like, for example, how I decided to try counseling because of advice from several people).
Advice, logical discussion... is great, just...in the moment all I want to do is to let myself fall to pieces while someone else picks them up. Once again, that isn't fair. But it's what I want, and I cannot help but resent that people don't just read my mind, or my face. DON'T THEY SEE THE LONGING. CAN'T THEY SEE WHAT IS SO OBVIOUS TO ME WHAT IS INSIDE OF ME IN FRONT OF ME WITHIN ME ALL AROUND ME 24 FUCKING 7 WHY WHY CAN'T THEY SEE
Don't they know how I want to be weightless in their arms, if only for a moment...
The incessant heaviness can only be...no, do not finish this sentence. no, it can only end badly. no no no...STOP.
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