thought.

he didn't care about any of us.

he cared, but was too afraid to act like it.

he cared about me, and all of those other girls, too.

he cares, but doesn't know how to show it. still.

they all cared too much once i was already gone.

he knew everything, and pretended to want to be anything but all of those things. he let me fall, without extending an outstretched arm to help me up or dust me off.

"what are you here for, if you're not there when i call?"

just me, again. i'm okay with that. honestly. i'm always happier when it's just me. then there's this echo echoing off of walls somewhere inside of me, where love should be. i can feel it, hear it, see it when my eyes close. i'm not ignoring it, or pretending not to feel it. i just don't want to nurture it. i don't want to give it what it calls out for. i want to be with me. so there is this battle between what i want, and what my insides scream out for. i was made to love. and i do. just not in that way right now. i feel it, in a ball, on reserve, waiting to be used. a large, looming, floating, glowing ball of love. for some man, ready to have my babies, somewhere in my future. in my future. not here with me, right now. i made it this way intentionally.

i see them when i meet them. i see them when they slip up and open themselves up, showing me flashes of who they really are. who they'll really be once they think they have me. i turned it off with him. it won't ever go off again. i've learned my lesson. the hard way, for the first time in a while. i went against my own good advice. what a bad idea. and they all sound the same. they all give me the same looks. touching me with their words and eyes. kissing me from across the room, or street. no respect for physical boundary from them, no respect for inside boundaries from me. i wanna see what they think and feel and love. they wanna see what i cover up with my clothes and khimars. how conflicting. you are like a plastic pretty ken doll until i see and want your insides. i don't care what you look like, or what you have, or who else wants you. if you don't fit me, you shall remain plastic and nipple-less and without my love.

i have to learn to be more selfish with this love. i just have to. i understand the need that everyone has to be loved. i feel like nobody should have to be lonely. i can feel it when they pass me, how lonely they are. i want to love them all, and keep them company. i want to cry for them, because they are too embarrassed to. they don't want people to know that they have feelings. i know they do, because i know i do. i want to hug them, and leave them with pieces of me to keep them company when they close their eyes before the tears can come. i have enough love to give to the world. even the stray puppies and men. they are all so lost. i want them to be happy, too. sometimes, i want them to be happy so badly, that i forget that i need to be happy myself.

when you fly, they always tell you this: in case of emergency, secure your oxygen mask before you assist any other passenger. help yourself so that you can help others without killing yourself. my frequent flying comes in handy for more reasons than a few. there is a such thing as being too selfless. you can't give love until you have none left for you to live from. this requires so much concentration from me. even the bad ones, the ones who i know don't deserve it. i just want to pull them out of it. i want them to know that love isn't what they think it is. i want them to know that love isn't only the name of a night club they go to for lust mistaken for love. i need them to know that babies are not mistakes. i need them to know that it's okay to cry. better to, even. the women are afraid because the men are afraid. the men are afraid because the women are afraid. i want them to stop being afraid. feel without fear. i know it's possible. well, it was. i don't know anymore. i think they are too far gone. but as long as i live, i'll fight for it. i'll pull and tug them back into love and life. i can only do it if they let me, though.