It hurts tonight. It hurts so badly that I can’t watch anything or talk to anyone or breathe deeply. I hope that the moon stays in hiding, I don’t want it to see me. I will not share this post, because I am ashamed.

I was doing so well. I was holding my head up and making plans and writing lyrics about never giving in. I was holding strong. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what broke the seal. I don’t know why my emotions are pouring out.

But it hurts.

All I’ve ever had to give is love, and I’ve given it wholeheartedly.

All I’ve ever wanted was to be loved in return.

But I don’t get it, I can’t have it, at least not anywhere near. I don’t get the friends I can go have a drink with when I need a break. I don’t get the family that has my back when life turns on me. I don’t get a partner in this life.

And I know people care from afar and that means so much, but distance is a killer. It uses the silence to murder the bonds that we call unbreakable and it watches as the life drains slowly away.

And sometimes, though I really fucking hate to admit it, I just need a hug.

But I don’t get love in this life. Not the kind of love that stays.

And it’s my fault, right? Because I didn’t get it as a child, then I didn’t know how to recognize it in others, so I guess I took the wrong paths. I couldn’t see it, so I followed the words. And now that I know, now that I know how to see, it’s not out there for me.

I’m too far gone.

It seems so silly to say that at my age, when people far older than I have found friends and partners and descendants to love… but I feel it, I feel it deep in my bones, and it’s ripping me apart.

I’m fine with never having money. I am okay with giving up my dreams, my careers. I can handle my body’s betrayal. But love? Love was supposed to be the thing that made it all worthwhile.

And yes, I still love, and I will forever. Friends, enemies, and strangers will get kindness and care. I will give of myself until my last breath, my last heartbeat, the last blink of my eye. I will love with intensity, with passion, without fail.

And that should be enough. I want it to be enough. I told myself it was enough.

But it’s not.

I’m too selfish.

I want to be loved.