A Writer's Downfall.

Delusional.

I keep wondering if I am enough.

I believe I am.

In relationships I don't ask for much, I only need quality time, dates, flowers, loyalty, honesty, trust, hugs, and respect. 

That is all bare minimum, like literally the BAREST minimum there is, it's like expected. 

I can confidently say I have never gotten all of those from one person, and the only person to come close to that gave me hugs, and then poof, ghosted me.

I can confidently say, I can name a few men who have done the very opposite of every single one of those, like literally every. single. one.

I've been single for the past year, focusing on me, learning more about myself, going out, and being happy, but as usual there's a time where all I want is one person to just know me. That's all I genuinely want, someone to know me and love, me. Always. 

Every time I've gotten close to that expectation though, they mess it up, like horrifically. I am quite literally traumatized by men, I have been done so damn dirty, like inhumanely dirty. I don't know how I literally lived to tell the tale, because in those moments I thought that was it, my heart was shattered, and I literally couldn't eat. 

Men are the epitome of weight loss for me honestly. No, that's not healthy but all it takes is one long swipe down his Instagram comments and my diet for the next week is oxygen. That crisp, beautiful, smooth breathing, oxygen. O2. The air that literally all mammals breathe.

Is there anything else for me to even say about it? All I have ever asked for is bare minimum stuff.

 I have NEVER EVER IN MY LIFE EVER ASKED A MAN FOR MORE THAN TIME, I WOULDN'T EVEN ASK FOR FLOWERS OR DATES, LIKE I HAVE LITERALLY BEGGED MEN TO JUST GIVE ME THEIR TIME. IS THAT DELUSIONAL OF ME TO STAY? YES? IT LITERALLY IS, HOW MUCH SHOULD I SCREAM THIS?

If there was a word in this world to explain this emotion I'm feeling, I would plaster it across my forehead and scream at every man that walks by with my eyes rolled to the back of my head so that I can't look at them. 

I would literally rip my face off, loosely tie my ripped face to a pole made of sandpaper, then with whatever I tied my face to the pole with, I'd grind my face against the sandpaper pole until it deteriorated into molecules of literal dust. Then with the dust, I'd sprinkle it in my eyes and then light myself on fire, before I told a man that I love them.

okay, I feel better after saying that, however let me be non-delusional for a second.

In reality, I don't have good taste, and I recognize that. I keep going for men that seem like they have a lot to their story, like they have something to tell, I enjoy learning about their life, hearing their perspective on things, and really just understanding someone. I enjoy that, because I love seeing different sides to things, but this is where I struggle. I am delusional. I could literally end this part at that, I am delusional. I think that because they know that I understand them, that somehow, they'll feel loved, and that's my problem. I'm not saying I suck at making someone feel loved, what I'm saying is that feeling understood and cared about is how I feel love, and I show others the love I want to feel. I don't show them the love that they consider love in their perspective, I show them my perspective. 

The reason I call myself delusional because even though I realize this, I continue to do it. I continue letting my love be taken for granted, and in my silly little mind I think: "He loves me don't worry, it'll be okay soon!" or I just start making excuses for their actions and persuade myself that this is normal, or them treating me badly is what comes with relationships, but in reality, it's not, and I should feel secure and happy in whatever relationship I'm in if I want it to be completely and fully successful. 

I do wish for myself to heal, for which I have healed, at least from my own trauma. By healed I mean my trauma does not affect how I treat and love others, I have compartmentalized this aspect of me to affect different parts of my life, and not my love life. My love life is a separate side of me, and I have made myself accustomed to understanding that the other person is not at fault for my trust issues, past trauma, or present misunderstandings rooted from my overthinking. However, there are times I struggle on keeping my trauma separated, I mean, I get triggered sometimes and it's all I can think about. In the times that this has happened though, it's never been an argument that I targeted toward the other person, it's always been me venting and for some odd reason, all the man wants to do is fix it, I wish they would just listen and realize the only thing that I am asking for in that current moment is a hug. (Or a milkshake)