I miss the suffocating weight of emotion. The kind that claws at your throat, growing tighter the more you fight it.
I long to return to that place… That desperate, obsessive kind of love. To be seen, wholly, every second of every day. To be loved as strongly as I loved. And when I'm not... to spiral, to weep, to feel. But now? Now I feel nothing. I miss those days… but I’m afraid of them, too.
Sometimes I think back on it and feel ashamed. That kind of obsession was unhealthy. I know it isn't right. It clouded my judgment.
It made me act in ways I didn’t always understand.
And yet... it’s all I know.
I want to be loved. To feel it so deeply it consumes me. Without it, I’m reduced to nothing. Every day is the same. I stare at the ceiling and ask myself: Why was I born this way? Why does this emptiness follow me? I learned to be normal. How to control the love that scared people away. How to smile when I feel empty. To seem stable. To be accepted.
And I hate it.
I need to feel again. To lose myself in someone so completely that it all finally makes sense.
Maybe one day… Maybe I’ll find it. Maybe I'll find you. Whoever you are. And maybe then, I can feel alive again.