Subject line: never have I ever.


boston, massachusetts.

Today I admitted to myself, “You took for granted that the people you love would unconditionally love you back. You have lost people for this.”

I never thought I would be her—the girl who said she didn’t have time to change. I recognized and thought that was enough but I did not change. This version of me, she put her nose to the grindstone and texted sometimes and waited for love, but didn’t realize that her back was against walls she built around herself just to get through a day. It wasn’t just being busy that was killing her, it was more. It was culture shock, maybe; it was stress that optimism had always kept at arm’s length. She wasn’t the best version of herself anymore. And she accepted that. I accepted that. I did that to me.

I cried hard today, and there was a part of me watching it all from outside my body, saying “c’mon, you’re better than this, chin up, be fine, you’re always fine, you know you’re always fine.” And I do know I’m always going to be fine but it’s the curse of eternal optimism that maybe you never face your own shit. And today, I think I faced my own shit. I faced it when my friend told me, “I love you, I love you, I love you—exactly as you are right now. You are enough, you are plenty. You hurt me to my core because you direct your endless love completely outward and somehow the rays missed me. I wanted all the love I have for you, for myself. I know you have it still. If you don’t, I will help you find it but only if you let me in and tell me that you need me. Tell me what you need from me.”

I am paralyzed by the thought of letting people down. But I cried when she spoke. Not just because she said she would stay, and not just because she was honest finally. But because—to tell her what I need is to admit that I am not fine and I have had days where I was not sure I would be by nighttime. To tell her what I need is to make time I never let myself think I had. To tell her what I need is to be the one who needs, and not the one who responds to what’s needed. And I don’t know what I need, anyway.

Never have I ever felt so very certain of my own absolutely immense uncertainty.

I don’t have any answers. I had no revelation. I think I feel better but my eyes are raw from crying and that stings right now. So I don’t know how I’m doing and I don’t know if that’s okay. Maybe overnight, it will become okay. (Eternal optimism, again.)