I sit in a corner of a room filled with boxes. It's just a small part of my belongings. I didn't have time to even unpack, having just moved in the house of my partner. Hmmm partner... such a loaded word. So many hopes and dreams packed in just a few letters. Desires that lingered in my soul since I have reason and memory: a house, a family, children, affection, companionship... but I am alone. I've always been alone. No matter who came in my path, I chose those that didn't care, didn't want to or were unable to fulfill. I've always thought that my dream was a simple one. I mean, who doesn't want that? The years just proved to me I'm so naive.
I know I can be a handful. Ever since I was very little I felt deprived of affection and always felt somehow unworthy. Each person that crossed through my path made me feel more and more unworthy.
I was just told again I was unworthy. That my body is not good enough. That my feelings are not worth fighting for. That I am as disposable as last night's leftovers.
I'm trying to keep it together. I wish I could talk to someone but at the same time I know I can't... I wouldn't be able to handle platitudes, someone telling me how everything is gonna be alright. Is it? When? How? When are we going to be treated more like what we are... human.