Hello, I love you

I am waiting for someone to make me feel alive again.

That's how I used to think anyway. That I'm not whole or relevant without someone breathing into me. Dust, ya' know? Do you understand what that is like? To spend your time, all your days, waiting for someone outside of your being to make you alive? You probably do. I felt that way about a boy, once upon a time. I felt that way about a God. About church, Art, (Art), friends, family, an empty page and a bottle of ink. I felt that way once.

That was not so long ago, and the road is long and winding. But. But, I need exactly me. I am who I was meant to be. People, faith, relationships help build you, aim you toward discoveries. But I am convinced that these discoveries would be made one way or another. You are who you are meant to become. I know that sounds selfish and that is not my intent. Of course I love those relationships, of course I adore my people and they have given me everything, shaped every smile and quirk and tear and wrinkle. And I owe them for it, but I think we may have been meant to become who we are anyhow. Is this faithless? Is this reminisent of a belief in pre-destiny? I don't know. All I'm completly aware of is that I am going to need only me for now. Not to say I don't need the others, I certainly do, but I don't need them in order to be me. Yep, this is the plan. Yep, this is a lie. Probably...