Yearning

Can a person crave love when they received every ounce of it their entire life? is it selfish to want to be wanted when you were sought out through a crowded room, smiled at when you stood preforming on the stage, nursed back to health when your bedside was covered in scrunched tissues and medicine bottles towering on the side table. I never had parents who didn’t care about me I’ve always been showered with love in all the ways a person dreams of when you have something they don’t.

I’ve always seen people be wanted when they aren’t at home and yearn for a different meaning for that word because somehow home was a place you felt loved and comforted by hot soups or warm hugs and dry pillowcases instead of damp ones, so it feels like guilt gnawing at me as I go into the world searching for love when I have it and don’t have the reason to cry or be sad and think of my friends that somehow have the right to have it because something is missing and they deserve it but i have love but it feels wrong to seek it from someone when according to everyone I don’t need that someone.

The vines of envy strangle my throat as I watch more of my friends find love despite it not being successful, it never mattered, what mattered was their situation, you don’t know what they go through they don’t get what you have and still be ungrateful about it. It was always their godamn situation, my mind could never overlook their situation and put myself in their shoes no matter how big or small their shoe size is. It never mattered because what mattered was that I had what they sought and to myself I’m the person driving the car past the traffic lights as they sit on the side of the road begging for attention and love so how can I be selfish. It’s funny isn’t it, it’s like a balloon inside it you have everything they want and yours is bigger than theirs yet somehow when it’s your birthday you always go for the big one first but as I fall down that rabbit hole once again I find myself reaching for the smaller one climbing every mountain as it staggers and flies and I keep reaching till I run out of air.

My parents are my mirror I’m seen my image is formed on their retinas and I’m seen. My emotions entail my face they know what I’m feeling when I’m feeling and why I’m feeling it they know when I’m about to spiral or when to pick up my stuff when I don’t want to or what to get me from the grocery store. So is it wrong for me to want a new mirror with engravings of my initial with a plus sign with someone else’s like the ones on trees surrounded by a heart, it’s like a glass of water that’s already full but still wants more till it’s running past the rim.

The need to be loved came from books, movies, the feeling of being there for someone and being called a home and finding that part to put in a market with tons of fruit yet never fresh or the stupid theory of moles being the places where a past lover has kissed the place beside my eye holds a mole with the need to love and be in love maybe it’s the feeling of never having a romantic interest or just the feeling of being in love that has been overly exaggerated and expressed.

My mind drifts back to when I was 13 years old and I was sick nestled on the sofa I wasn’t feeling very well and it was all so gloomy when I was born my parents had gotten me a small blanket with a brown teddy bear on it as I grew up I had named it although i never knew why or how I named it but I did it’s called ‘Miya’ which in Urdu it’s translated to husband so which does not sum up very well for my situation but my brought my blanket and wrapped it around me and I instantly felt better the soft cotton twinkling my cheek made it better it’s like she always knows and with that the hole grew deep cascading with more reasons. Which is why I drown in my pettiness every night with the words of ungratefulness slapping my face as it creates a red patch and to punish myself I don’t even caress it with my hand I let it sting because I didn’t deserve it

My best friend has parents that are divorced which is why when we entered our teen years she had been texting a lot of guys and talking to many of them and posting pictures specifically for them now I had not found this weird or something wrong at that time yet I wanted to do it to but I feared that my parents would find out so I never did when I told my mom about what she was doing to have a laugh about it she retorted back with a concerning face “ I always feel so bad about her she needs her parents when you don’t get attention at home you find someone to get it from” “Aren’t you lucky you have us someone who loves you and gives you attention” I think that’s where the guilt emerged because deep down I had love and care but I still wanted to do what she did despite the fact that we had different reasons.

So this is why I never indulge because I’m at guilt and it continues to eat me alive.