I want to be a glass, a tumbler, a mug, anything but what I am.

I don't have the words to define it.
This feeling I get when things fall apart.

My initial assessment...failure.

What did I do this time?

Why wasn't I worth it?

What about me makes it so easy for people to let me go...

to just walk away and be better off alone than with me.

How is it that once I open myself up to the possibilities,

that every road block gets slammed in my face?

I don't understand this pattern of getting close to someone

that then decides their issues are too much for them to be able to care about me.

How does this make any rational or emotional sense?

Maybe I'm crazy but I'd imagine that getting dumped because the other person can't handle my issues would make totally and complete sense. The reverse still baffles me.

In 2010 I blogged about being "perfectly imperfect".

I listed many of my less than desirable qualities but went on to explain that I do have many things to offer.

Once towards the end of my relationship with my ex-fiancé, we were in a flight.

He was telling me why he didn't want to be with me and everything that he was dealing with,

I could barely comprehend everything he was saying because all that was streaming through my brain was...

"what's so bad about being with me. about me."



This is me...

And just last night as I was trying to explain it all to my friend,

without the waterfall of tears hiding behind my smile erupting,

I told her I wish I didn't feel like I had to convince someone to love like me.

I haven't even tried in the last couple of situations because years ago I felt like I spent much of my time defending my relationship

and lobbying for my positive traits to count for something.

Is it really that hard to see the real parts of me?

I love deeply.

I enjoy the company of the person I care about but also value my alone time.

I have no desire to control every moment of someone's life.

I'm not materialistic or even in need of impressive dates or grand gestures.

I'm supportive, positive and silly.

None of this seems to matter because each time I come close, or get excited about someone, the inevitable seems to happen.

I'm a paper cup.

Useful but with a short lived purpose.

When my novelty or use has expired,

I am carelessly tossed aside without a passing thought.