My Last Ounce Of Hope

I know I close myself off too quickly. I know that.
I like to erase, delete, and discard. I realize that- but it's become one of my unfailing hobbies that I do not want to give up; of which I refuse to give up. Though one day I probably will reluctantly have to I suppose.
I know I push people away. I know that.
I know I run people off. I know that.
I know my standards and expectations are way too damn high.
I know that.

But I decline to settle. I won't be that girl that settles. I can't be that girl.
I refuse to be that girl.

There will be a day when I do, settle I mean.

The one who will be fearless and protective. Who won't be scared to brace the stormy waters and chaos. Who will take care of me very patiently and unconditionally, 'cause god knows I really need it- no matter how much I feign toughness and independence. I'm tired of taking care of everyone. I need to be taken care of. I'm just so damn tired.

I am entirely broken, damaged, twisted, dark, and fucked up inside. But you already knew that. Every possible destructive quality you can think of, I'm probably it. But, you already knew this.

The one who will always be there and who will always want to be there, 'cause god knows how great and fucked up my abandonment issues are, no matter how well I cover them up. (This is probably why I can't ever let myself get attached to anything or anyone. Or if I do, I immediately do something to fuck it up)
The one who will defy not to leave, no matter how hard I try to push him away or escape; or better yet, who won't run scared- no matter how strong I come off, but obviously with ulterior motive to scare him off.

Guys always want to know why I never give them an inch and why I am always so tough on them. Really, you want to promise me all these things and do things right with me, but don't tell me, show me. All of you are all the same. As much as I treasure words, the phrase actions speak louder than words became a phrase with meaning for a true purpose and reason dumbasses. All it takes is real thought and intellect to get to the truth.

People always leave. Everything I love, I lose.

Trust to me, has become something that needs to be proven and earned. As well as kept.

To the one who won't give up when things get too messy and hard.
To the one who will see right through me, past my face value surface barriers- past all my stupid defense mechanism/self-preservation bullshit. And who will want to really reach me without regret.

He, is who I dream about.
He, is the reason I would rather keep sleeping for.
Him, I want.
He, I will let in.



Truth, I am really beginning to wish that I had never experienced any love or lust at all. Or that I wasn't so inconsistent so it wouldn't be too easy for me to fall in love so conveniently or change my mind too quickly. That maybe everything would be fine if I were left alone and still in pristine condition having never been scarred, roughly cut up, and burned repeatedly.
Maybe I would be normal.

Maybe this is too much to hope for. Is it?