Lost wishes

I wish I felt good enough. I wish I felt like you cared. I’m sorry that ever went away.

I wish I felt like I wasn’t so alone. Like I had someone on my side, helping me find my footing.

I wish things didn’t turn to shit when they did. And I wish last night wasn’t the kind of night to traumatize me all over again.

I wish I didn’t deserve all of it. Or, at least, I wish it didn’t happen to me this way, even if I did deserve it.

I miss having that feeling of safety. That one place, where things just might be okay. It has messed me up, not having that.

I’m not okay right now. I wish I was, but I’m not. I’ve been fighting back the floodgate of tears trying to escape for the past 24 hours. It’s a battle I’m sure to lose sooner or later.

I’m not okay. Last night, I wanted nothing more than to give up. I almost did.

He almost won.

I wish I had a safe place. A safe person.

Shit, I’d settle for even just one safe second.

I wish things were better. I wish I had therapy tomorrow instead of Tuesday. And I fucking wish I was strong enough to go in there and be as fucking real and vulnerable as I feel.

But if I did that, I can almost guarantee that I’d break down. I’m not strong enough to hold it in. Things are too heavy, too intense.

I’ve been in therapy with her for over 6 years. And I’ve never cried in there. Not once. And I don’t think now is the time.

Even though I wish it was.

But I don’t feel safe. I don’t think she cares. I feel so out of place and uncertain.

Everything is chaos and confusing and hurtful. He hurt me again last night. And I hate him for it.

I wish I felt safe. And I wish I felt secure.

I need someone. I need my safe place to be safe again.

Because I am not okay. Things are fucked up. They’re more fucked up than I can handle on my own.

And I wish I wasn’t so on my own right now.

I need you. I need someone.

I need there to be somewhere where I can exist in safety and security. And I’m so afraid that just doesn’t exist anymore.