How do I discribe to you, this feeling, that creaps in on me so often lately? How do I explain the tears? How do I live when there's no guilt left, when I see that maybe, just maybe, I was never really the guilty one to start with?

How do I explain to you, the need to be listened to, to be looked at, to be seen crying and bursting in laughter? The need to be held, hugged, talked to without awkwardness, shyness, fear, without having to make up stories? Without appologizing for being myself? Without appologizing for my feelings, and chaging my mind just so someone else is happy?

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How do I explain, that having parents and a brother, and a few friends, who are too busy to ever meet, is not enough? That I want to be who I am, and be accepted as such, not told how to live, so others don't think badly of me?

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To be loved. To have someone, who wants to see me in the morning, and in the evening. With whom I can have breakfast, and dinner, and talk about my days, even if I've done nothing but reading. And to not hear how useless it is, but rather get asked about the book.

To have someone, who would make me feel safe. Emotionally and physically safe. To have someone, who understands my pain, instead of telling me that I'm overdramatic, or that I've misunderstood something.
To have someone who wants to see me happy, and wants to be happy with me. Someone, to whom I will be enough, just as I am.
To have someone, who would wake up and fall asleep holding my hand.

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See, no friend, parent, or brother can give that, and that's not their responsability.

And therefore, I feel lonely, which I cannot explain to them.