There was a girl I knew.
Sometimes she was full of laughter.
And other times her honesty drove people away.
She didn’t play games and she often lacked control, by having too much control over her emotions. It was hard for her to speak sometimes and not plan it out before hand, not the every day things of course, but the things that mattered.
She was a mess, and had been broken more times then she fully remembered except when it suddenly rushed back. She constantly wondered if she was enough. Or worthy of being loved.
Because so many had left her, by death or by choice. In one form or another, the result is still the same, yes?
Now it wasn’t just a question of was she worthy of being loved. It was more was she capable of feeling it when someone gave it? And sometimes when her demons came out to play, the simple answer was: No.
Someone might say it and other sweet things, but there were always times a voice inside her replied…is it true? She’d want to believe it.
She had so much love to give. But her loving someone was never the issue, she did so without reserve except when it came to the belief they would love her back.
So instead she sat quietly, sometimes she was full of laughter. And sometimes her honesty drove people away.
