Underestimation
Underestimation.
How can you put such little faith in me?
How can you know me so… Well you don’t.
No one really does.
I am faithful.
So incredibly faithful, probably too blindly
faithful.
But cut me to my core, fail me,
completely and utterly fail me,
and you are dead to me.
You underestimate my stubbornness.
Who I am. What I am.
Who I am to my deep core.
You don’t know me. You never knew me.
You thought you had this picture perfect
version of me that was always going to be there.
The perfect friend, the always dedicated lover,
the daughter that never wanted to disappoint.
A perfectionist.
But who is going to take care of me?
In those few times of real desperate need,
no one is there.
So what do I do to keep moving on?
To keep living every day of this lie.
We can drink away our sorrows, but they
always come back the next day to haunt us.
The night before can be filled with cloud nine
scenarios that get us high on life, adrenaline rushes,
men and attention, dancing and laughter, but the morning
after always comes with… Emptiness…
An emptiness that I fear no one can fill.
I don’t want to be judged by the choice of
whether I wore heels or flats the night before
or by the number of Instagram likes my
photos get of how fucking exciting my life is.
All I want is a normal, kind, little rough
around the edges kind of man that will get
me for me. That won’t judge my sailor mouth
or my inability to hide my hyena laugh or
lessen my anxiety when I am really nervous
about something. I want to find a man that will
laugh with me, but also laugh at me
when necessary. A man that will push me to be
better, want me to succeed, be my own person.
Someone who wants adventure.
Someone who will leave me alone when I
want to be left alone, but will just check in so
I know someone is caring.
Honestly, I don’t really want love. That is
fucked up. Does that make me fucked up in the head?
I worry.
All of a sudden I feel like I have these issues.
A fear to let almost anyone in. Even if it is a new
neighbor or a new friend.
I mean look at me. Numb. I cannot even cry
anymore.
I just want someone that will like me for me.
Someone I can keep company with.
Someone who will be there the next day.
Someone who will tell me how nice I looked
the night before when I chose to wear flats instead
of heels, someone who didn’t like my Instagram photo,
but instead woke up to me the next day to tell me how
beautiful I look.
Someone who does not have to prove in the stupid
childish ways that I am worth the breath that I breathe,
anxiety and numbness that I bare.
I just really want someone who will… Be
there. Is that too selfish?
Underestimation. I want all this, but it’s not
going to happen. Not with the attitude that I
have. Not with the reservations that I have.
Stubbornness. I will never let you know that
these thoughts cross my mind on that one
ride home on the metro in the middle of the city.
Strangers staring at me while I
aggressively type any thought that exits my brain
like mush.
Underestimation.
Except for these words I write,
that I hide deep inside and within.
No one will ever know.
~AAS
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