My biggest fear is that my love is not enough. I don’t think I have much else to offer. By the world’s standards, I am an ugly person. On a good day, maybe plain. I only wish I had a normal smile. Because I have felt happiness, but my exterior can never seem to accurately reflect these beautiful feelings in a beautiful way. Maybe that’s why I have fortified myself to be on my own. But maybe I am destined to be on my own, not because of my ugliness, but because of my pride.
I think I have loved well in those rare instances when the door was opened to me. I believe I can love well. For the most part, I've felt I've been doing my best navigating this world where I don't seem to fit anywhere. Maybe I've been wrong. But we just continue to do our best.
1 comment:
i ran across your blog, and your skilled and heartfelt yet restrained writing, while searching for the ee cummings poem "one winter afternoon" to send along to a friend who may be dying of cancer. like all of us, he is dying of something. some sooner than others. i'm sorry about your brother.
i'm glad your blog appeared and that i can say not to give up. you're a damn good writer. i know how it feels to shed words from the heart and drop them into the anonymous swirl. but here. you've touched a stranger.
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