Empty Walls, Empty Heart

Well I made it through one week of just turning my heart off, a whole week. No tears for my broken heart, no calling a friend to pick me up, no reaching out to someone to comfort me.... I guess I thought I was on the upward swing, that if I didn't feel it was a good sign.

Then the loneliness sank in. I may not be crying from the pain of a broken heart, but now I am crying from the pain of an empty heart and an empty house. I have this horrible curse of wanting a family, wanting people to take care of, to love on... and when you have the house but nothing else in the puzzle it makes a woman feel, well, it makes me feel a little empty and inadequate.

I think I am done with wishing the love I invested would return something. But the down side of that, I feel like I am jaded on any love from here on out. I want to love but the idea of love is tainted with pain, mistrust, and brokenness. And sadly, this feeling is not just when it comes to romantic love, it is blanketing all kinds of love in my life. Ashamed, I say that I have lost most all of my faith in about everything. It isn't suppose to be this way. I know it isn't.

My mom made a funny comment on a facebook post of mine when i said I just wanted someone to take care of me, she said "When you find that special person for you......you will a lifetime of days he will take care of you....". When I read it, I literally laughed, then started crying. I have lost faith in the fact that someone will ever be able to love me or really that I will be able to love someone like I loved before. I sound like that sad pathetic girl I never wanted to be. But I guess I never factored in that someone could shatter my heart over and over again so badly either. Growing up, I was the typical believer in love. I saw it work out all around me, my parents, grandparents, their friends... they all had those perfect love stories. So why wouldn't it be like that for me? So in life, I went in head first to every opportunity of love hoping it would be that perfect love that everyone around me found. . . but in my short 22 years of life, that is far from the case. I have always been the one to break the rules, to do it my own way, to be a little different from everyone in my family... so why did I not factor in that love would be the same way? Different for me. Harder for me.

So I sit here on my Sunday Clean up Day, and look at the empty walls of my house wondering if I will ever fill the space, ever have pictures to put up.... will it ever be a home to more than just me and Mr. Mason? Unfortunately the house is perfect, it has everything to offer and the perfect coziness to make it great for a home.... when will it stop making me feel lonely and make me feel okay again?