Note: When I wrote that text I was in a darker place than I am now. Though I am still dealing with that issue, I can handle it better and writing about it helped me very much!
For more than two years now, I have been giving myself away. Away to those, not less desperate than me, but more confident. More confident and more willing to take.
For more than two years now, I have been giving myself away with my consent. Consent to those not less desperate but more confident, to take from me. Taking my shame and taking my pride, in order to fill a void.
For more than two years now, I have been trying to fill that void. Trying to fill the void by giving everything and more that I had to offer; that my body was capable to offer. Disrespecting me, myself, and my body.
It has been more than two years now and I finally grew to understand, that this void of desperation couldn’t be filled in an hour, neither in a day nor in a week. That this act of violation against myself with my consent was almost a crime.
It has been more than two years now and I finally grew to understand, that instead of thinking I was having everything. I was missing love.
It has been more than two years now and I finally realized that I was just a desperate individual. Desperate for love, for closure. Desperate for a friend that would see through me. Guide me. Only then to realize that I had all those things. They were just too far away. But still shining bright like a beacon of hope. Like the truest, honest, and kindest spirit I have ever encountered.
It took me more than two years to come to terms with myself.
And it took me a little while longer to realize what it was, that my void was missing. Maybe not even missing but just desperate of.
I realized that it was love, that I was missing.
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