Love, life, and everything in between.

Journal #121

Apparently everyone in the universe misses someone they hate. I can't wrap my mind around it at times. It's like trauma.
Endless trauma.
Failed parental relationships you can't quite grasp.
I tend to look for role models in people in my family. Strong, fearless, independent women and there's hardly any.
Women with men who dimmed their light.
I just wanted someone to show me what real love was.
I wanted a love like the movies like the notebook.
I wanted it all.
The love that makes you stupidly crazy that you'd run away together.
The love where your partner respects you and buys you flowers.
The love where your partner doesn't look at women as something to conquer but something to care for.
I wanted deep, caring, compassionate, adventurous love.
The kind of love that sweeps you off your feet but humbles you in the process.
I didn't want to have to question my worth.
I didn't want to have to look at social media and see girls with boobs, bods, and butts of silicone being liked by boys who have prettier natural girls at home.
Boys who like these pictures and comment on them like starved wolves.
Girls or bright young women who'd give those boys their hearts and souls in a heartbeat for love.
I miss you when I'm lonely and I think of the person you were.
I'm one to stay stuck in the past and not move forth.
I do that quite often than I'd like.
And you know me.
My stomach drops at the mention of your name.
I keep having these dreams in which you talk to me about your life.
A life that I was once apart of on a daily basis.
A life that you envisioned with me at one point in time.
I cry thinking  about the way you treated me.
I cry thinking about the arguments we had in which you accused me of the most absurd things.
I cry thinking about the lies you said to my face.
I cry thinking about the things I asked of you to show me respect and how I never got that in return.
I cry because I wanted you to be honest and respect me. 
I wanted you to not like half naked girls pics.
I wanted you to show me off like I was a trophy and not something you were ashamed about.
I was met with one post.
No anniversaries.
No Christmas.
No New Years.
No Valentine's Day.
Nothing.
Left shattered.
I felt worthless and deeply insecure.
I felt like I was never pretty enough.
I never had your attention.
I never had your attraction.
There's parts of me that still fill that.
Trauma.
Rejection.
Constant and yelling insecurity.
Am I good enough?
Am I smart enough?
Am I pretty enough?
Am I worth anything to anyone?
Am I loved for the whole and broken bits of me?
Me.
This 20 year old college kid with dreams of finding love.
Dreams of the great job and financial stability.
Dreams of white picket fences in some suburban utopia.
Dream of family vacations or endless traveling in my twenties.
I think of the future all the time.
It's a constant.
It's a dream.
It's a hope.
That maybe someday, someone, out there is feeling what I'm feeling.
They have dreams, aspirations, and adventures to go on.
I wrote wedding vows for a wedding that happened in my mind.
A wedding in which you didn't attend but stood at the end of the aisle dressed in a navy blue tux.
A wedding envisioned in my mind so great and grand it was real.
I just wish you loved me that much.
I miss you and I hate you.
I hate you for giving me this all ready added feeling of being not good enough.
I miss you and I hate you but hates too strong of a word for me to use for someone I once loved.
So I loathe you instead of hate.
Yes,
I loathe you.