Why.

My dad asked me today why I seem so uninterested in the possibilities of my life. Why do I feel so incredibly disconnected and estranged from my friends and family, and why do I tend to shut out especially when it is necessary for me to go into greater depth about why I feel the way I do? My dad asked why I feel so uncomfortable being my pure, genuine self around every human being. How do I explain to the man who wants nothing but the absolute best for me and from me, that I am not capable of the extensive desires everyone wants from me? How do I explain that those questions he asks me are triggers from deep-rooted trauma that I still have a difficult time processing and I am still learning how to cope with every day?

I concluded that everything I am, is based on my undesirable need to ask why. Why does everything work out the way it does, why did I deserve to be thrown into the crossfire of deep-rooted abandonment, the need to be perfect in every aspect to be loved and accepted, to be someone I no longer think I can be? Everything is a choice, I choose to continue to put as much as I can into being who I was made to be, but sometimes I no longer feel the desire to continue any path at all. I don’t know why I was sentenced to this life when most of the time I am doing more harm than good due to the unescapable ideals that nothing I do will be the desired outcome that will please anyone in the way they want or need. I struggle to find an escape from myself, which tends to be a long-term self-issue that I logically know I have to work on, but also, simply, I do not think that I have to change for the comfort of others. I know I am emotional, sensitive, extensively loyal, unpredictable, and often coming off borderline with no centerfield. I should not have to water myself down for anyone. I should be able to be loved to the extent I know I love. I should be able to be loved no matter what.

Once love is put in the mix whether it be romantic or platonic, there will always be the destruction that can occur from it. It, unfortunately, will be the people who you think love you, the people who know you to the greatest depths, that can hurt you at your absolute core. Why does it always become the greatest grief of all is because of love whether it be from tragedy and loss or heartbreak. It is unsettling to not know why. Why do things happen the way they do, even if you do your absolute best to fix things? I still haven’t figured out an answer to why people try to fix things that do not want to be fixed or things that are not broken, yet we ask why too when it’s simply too late. Love is blind. Love is the intention of finding the best in everything. Yet love is the greatest reason for excruciating pain. It is inevitable really. It is inevitable to not ask why.