I Love You

I Love You

People always scold me or question why I want a boyfriend so badly. Isn't obvious? I want what everyone around me has: love. Yes, my mother loves me. The woman who says, "I hate you," more than she says the words "I love you." yes, my father loves me. The man who has never said those three words to me, and the man whom I will never be enough for. Yes, my brother loves me. The boy who looks at his sister like she's a waste of space. Yes, my sister loves me. The girl who is never home to say it to me. Yes, my best friend loves me. The girl who cannot even love herself. My grandmother loves me. The woman who was the only one who saw something special in me; the woman that died three years ago.

What do I want?

I am not asking for a boyfriend; I just want somebody to care and actually listen to what I have to say. I want someone to hold my hand and tell me it's okay, and I want someone who can tell me it's not okay too. I want someone to tell me good night and ask me how my day was. I want at least one person to try to understand this mess I call a mind. I just want someone to tell me if I finally see a therapist, no one will think I'm crazy. That someone is me. I want to love myself. I want to accept that I'm not a monster and that people do love me. I want myself to stop pushing people away because of the fear of rejection. I want to be loved by me.