Missing Link

I never knew if you were proud of me, or if instead, who I was growing up to be embarrassed and disappointed you.

I always wondered if you wished I hadn't been born. I very much felt like I was always in the way.

Everything I did for a long time, was in hopes of getting you to notice me and maybe even be glad I was there.

I always waited for a sign that you loved me, not just because you had to, but because I was something special.

Sometimes you did offer a compliment in my direction, and when you did it always shocked me.

Because I just assumed that the reason you never said anything was because you didn't have anything nice to say.

Somewhere deep down, though, I wanted to believe that you loved me and that you were proud of me. But I never really had any reason to.

Just a lot of silence. A lot of distance. And a lot of feeling very lost and alone.

I often wondered why I was placed here; why I existed; and I contemplated how much happier everyone would be if I didn't.

I got older though, and someone else showed me some attention. And all of this -all of me- became his problem.

And although it doesn't cause me to question my intrinsic value, I think I will always question the value others see in me.

I think I will always wonder if I am a disappointment or embarrassment. And I think I will always long to make someone proud.

I'll probably always feel like I'm in the way, and I'll probably always be motivated by that wanting to just be noticed and needing to be wanted.

I don't know that I'll ever believe anyone loves me for reasons outside of obligation. And no matter how hard anyone tries, I'm afraid I'll never feel genuinely special.

I don't think I'll ever be able to accept a compliment without taking note of the resounding silence all around it.

And I'm pretty sure I will always assume that silence is the controlled tongue of "nothing nice to say".

I have a lot of reasons to believe I am loved now. And I have a lot of reasons to believe I make the people that love me proud too. But I still don't believe it.

I don't think I ever will.

I am proud of who I am. I love what I've become. And I value every part of me.

I honestly think I've turned out pretty well. And if I were to meet me on the street, I'm sure I'd be great friends with me.

But I know that I'll never believe that anyone will ever agree.

I wish I could, though. I wish I would. Even if I were wrong.

Wonderful Peace

Hello quiet silence. You're looking up through eyelashes and eyebrows. Your furrowed brow looks scared.

There's been a lot going on and you have been sort of swept under the couch cushions as raucous and jumble have ruled the room.

But I see you peeking out there and it's nice to see you again.

There is a dropping of the shoulders and a resting of the chest as breath fills the space deep and wide.

I like it when you sneak out of your hiding spot after everyone has left, inviting calm and focus to join us.

My spirit expands into the emptiness and darkness and I become whole again as the world fades to a trunk in the closet for a while.

Warmth bathes us like light as the chill, like a fog, is pulled out under the doorways and cracks in the walls.

It's nice to hear the seconds telling me of their days, of what has gone and what will come. And the sweet surrender of time into the night.

I long for something that cannot be found in the emptiness of your sweet hum, quiet silence. But you comfort me with your timid embrace. I don't dare ask for more.

And my chest grows heavy under the weight of the distance and I listen for the sounds of this desire.

They squeak across the laminate floor under a cart of promises and things I've never known or ever seen. Covered neatly under a shiny dome preserving the heat of each flavor.

My hair moves in the breeze of these whispers... anticipating the gust that will blow my hair back and push me into the shouting winds of change.

And I cannot help but smile in the company of these things; these fortune tellers.

And I am washed with peace.