Whimsical Wishes of a Female Friend

I like to pride myself in being pretty rational because I can control my emotional needs fairly well. But... sometimes... well, there's just something incomplete about my independence. There's still an innate and cynical belief that I will never be truly cared for by someone. That I will always be unhappy and uncertain of the reality of true love. Part of me needs security and something to hold onto when I'm feeling weak. There's still an emotional child within me that longs to have someone pay constant attention to my deficiencies and nurse me to health. I couldn't have such security served to me from my parents, so I look for it elsewhere. It's the part I believe can't be filled on your own, no matter how much you believe happiness and completeness have to be artificed by personal perspectives. It's the part that longs for love.

Was it really so fantastical to dream of someone where I am their last thought at nightfall and their first in the morning? When I asked if some kind of certainty could be offered to me like a phone call and me with the full faith that I wouldn't be let down... was it too much to ask? Do I need to lower my standards of Prince Charming just to be happy and secure where I am or is there a way I can truly share love?

Love isn't all about being happy all the time, but certainly it should be about having the confidence that you won't be let down? Having the confidence that false hopes won't be elevated? Knowing that someone is making the effort to show you their love? Sometimes I feel like I'm trying to be left with no choice. :O.. Sometimes I feel like this is all one cruel test. One thing I hate about myself is the level of energy and emotion I'm capable of putting into relationships. No, it's not too little. It's just... too much. For some reason, I'm feeling pretty jaded.

There are a few things I miss about high school. A feeling I was given by one person in particular. And that's the feeling of value. It may have been a delusion, but it was an awfully nice delusion. I miss being understood. I miss being around someone who could see through my smiles and outter persona, and detect the pain and lack of human companionship I felt because of day to day struggles.

There's always that one person I remember so clearly. So beautifully that our friendship or relationship, whatever it was, could not be looked back on without the whimsical wish of feeling that sense of comradeship and connection again. That sense of being the only two people in the world that could comprehend each other. I miss talking about everything from mundane topics to current events to bigger ideas about life. I miss talking about REAL THINGS. Ideas. It seemed as I grew older, I became more superficial and less real.

Maybe it's because as we grow older, we seem to find that outter happiness is the easier and swifter to obtain. Therefore, we seek outter happiness and abandon young, naive idealism.