Breathing Room

Craving

I've been afraid to start writing this thing the moment I created it. As soon as it became real my euphoria ended. Even now I had to start on paper and transfer it to this box. This is as far as I'd gotten but I'm willing myself to complete my first entry.

I've always been afraid of putting my thoughts into actual sentences. Then it becomes real. My jumbled thoughts, all my observations and assumptions, judgements, -written down, become actual proof that they even existed. I can't take it back. That's my problem.

Most of the time I need to take something back. This from a person who wants to live her life with no regrets. No what ifs, I wish...forgetaboutit. Where did I come up with THAT idea.

Right now I'm not up to going back to the beginning and re-living moments in my mind. Let me just say that I've always craved love. That feeling.

And yes, my parents are still together, still married (sometimes happily, a lot of times not), my childhood was fine and yet I still have stuff to bitch about.

This isn't really about them anyway. It's about me. I know that sounds selfish, but as trite as it sounds I've always been trying to figure out who I am. Find the direction that I'm supposed to go in without always ending up at a fork in the road.

My search for myself has always been through others. Searching their eyes and faces looking for clues as to what they thought of me.

But it was a relationship I'd always fantasized about. Romance.