I'm embarrassed by my blog.
Shortly after the last post I clicked on an entry from December of 2016 where I talked about crying in a dark basement over a girl and that ... God didn't seem to exist.
Looks like some things never change.
Guess I'm pathetic.
I feel too much. Yesterday I found an old love letter from Gina that... I deeply appreciated reading.
I'm so sentimental.
I hope I've grown up.
And a part of me wishes that I hadn't.
I miss that childlike wonder within myself.
I don't want to kill him off.
I love him.
I love me.
Traumas pains and warts and all.
It just took a long time to realize.
A long time.
To know what is truly important in this world.
Love.
Love is all that there is.
It's all that is worth having.
And it saddens me that I never really got to experience it.
Because I wasn't taught to fully love myself first.
Wish I had a mentor growing up. A guide with a good head on their shoulders.
My mother treated me like a baby and sometimes still does.
Love isn't about ownership. About someone fulfilling your infantile expectations of them.
Took me long enough to figure this out.
Still waiting on you God.
Show me what you're made of.
Let's create the beautiful world that we know is possible.
Or at least alleviate the pain of this one.
Gracias mi dios.
Que no sea un momento demasiado pronto.
