I'm just a little silly.
When I think "when will someone look at me in my sadness and think 'that's the most beautiful person I've seen'", what I really mean to think is "when will someone look at me in my joy and delight and think 'that's the most beautiful person I've seen'".
I want to be yearned for the same way I yearn. I want it to be mutual. I want effort to come from both sides, to communicate, to unlearn, and learn, and grow, and express patience, and be equally transparent.
In my experience, it's hard to imagine I'm worth the effort, even if it feels like it's easy for me.
It's easy for me to say, "the fact that you can feel and love this deeply is proof that the love exists for you out there", but for me? God forbid anything exists for me. God forbid love exists for just me. God forbid I want something that others around me have.
The truth is that I'm scared.
I'm scared that it doesn't exist, because all that I am, all that I feel, and all that I have done has been fake--something I've done simply to perform and prove to myself that I am something akin to a human, when I am not.
It's easier to think me a monster who has left everything in ruins in my path. Like a beast that has devoured everything around them, hoping to be seen as an angel, when that cannot be.
Not abandonment, not heights, not being left behind, but the fear that I was never authentic to begin with, and therefore, undeserving.