Drowning in Loneliness

I don't believe in love.

Not anymore at least

I watched as my parents' marriage fell apart; not that they ever had a chance.

I watched as they drowned in their loveless marriage. As the lies they told wrapped their cold, lifeless hands around their ankles and drug them to the depths. As the hope and happiness behind their eyes shatter like the wine glasses my mother threw at my father. As the distance between them seemed endless, even though they slept in the same bed every night. As their anger for each other was as hot as a house fire and as damaging as a grenade.

I lost hope for love.

I knew I would find love at some point, but I didn't know if it would freeze over, become colder than my parents'. And that became my biggest fear.

Every night, I stumbled home with bruises, scratches and blotchy skin. Every night, I had a new name engraved into my brain, calling out to me so I would never forget. Every night, I prowled the streets looking for love, for someone to hold me and tell me what I wanted to hear. They, of course, only wanted to get in my pants.

Pathetic. I know. But it was the only way I could find love without the heartbreak. The affection and lust without the crushing fear they'll leave me. They can't leave me, I'd tell myself, if I'm already gone. They can't hurt me if I'm not there.

I searched for affections in men who couldn't give it to me. They couldn't give me what I wanted, making it easier to leave.

Sometimes I imagined myself as an orphan in foster care, searching for the perfect house, the perfect family. Of course, my idea of a perfect family was instead the perfect man. The perfect man that you see portrays 'the love interest' in nearly every rom-com. I craved for the perfect love. To finally be free of the constant pronging of longing.

Perhaps my expectations were achievable, because after each night, my hopes were shattered.

After a while, the pronging became caressing. Loneliness became my friend instead of the younger sibling, wailing at night and begged for comfort. Loneliness comforted me; as long as I was alone, I was untouchable, Invincible even! I couldn't be anxious to impress a man for the night if I were alone. Another's words can't cut if there is nobody to speak.

In the end, my expectations killed me, and I am the only one to blame.

My expectations held the gun to my temple and pulled the trigger. Only instead of death, a life of isolation came for me.

In the end, I was no different than my parents.

 I drowned in loneliness. My expectations wrapped their cold, dead hands around my ankles and dragged me to its depths. My hope and happiness shatter like those wine glasses. Reality seemed far away, even though I was living in it. My loneliness slowly froze me, turning me cold. Dead to the world.

I was lost.

I had searched for a love to keep me warm at night, but instead my expectations turned me colder than my parents' marriage.

I became my biggest fear.

****

I feel as though I need to say this: we are not our parents. Yes, we are all more or less half of each parent, but that doesn't define us are humans. You may have similar habits or traits as your parents, but you are not them. You are so much more than their offspring. You are somebody's best friend, somebody's first love, somebody's Happily Every After, even somebody's enemy.

Just because you share the same DNA as someone, doesn't mean you'll turn out exactly like them. As hard as it may sound, don't live your life in fear of becoming your parents. Only you can make yourself better.

Especially now than ever, if you feel alone or like you're drowning in absolute shit, don't hesitate to contact me on here. 

National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

-Stay inside and Stay Safe <3