I'm prickly and my edges are all rough.
My clothes don't fit and I don't feel right in my own skin.
I don't know what's wrong.
I don't know how to be me.
Still love me.
You try to comfort and I push you away.
I don't know why.
If there's any moment that I need a hug and an understanding ear, it's this one.
And I push you away.
Please love me anyway. Hold my hand anyway. Sit with me anyway.
This isn't me. I hope you can see that.
Under all the prickly, I'm still in here.
I just don't know how to get out.
And I'm praying that, when I do get out, you'll still be there.
You'll still be loving me.
There is someone that I am doing this for... and I hope he really feels like what you wrote. That he really wants me to keep loving him, even though he isn't himself and keeps pushing away? I *think* that's the right thing to do.
ReplyDelete**hugs** I hope he does too, my friend.
DeleteThis reminds me of Unwell by Matchbox 20. I feel like this so often.
ReplyDelete