I want my mommy

An oldie but goody:

Written on May 9, 2008

I am a weak headed 24 year old bitch face. I cry when I know someone is getting hurt. I try my best to fight for others that cannot fend for themselves. I cannot figure out what hurts me, but I can see what makes you sad. I can fix you, but not myself. Can I be your mommy?

I am sick. I'm not cold sick. I don't have the sniffles, nor do I have a fever. I am sick of being alone and independent. I just want to be taken care of for one day. One day, I want to wake up with her fingers softly tracing my eyebrows from the center to the ends over and over. I want her to kiss my eyelids and tell me everything is going to be okay. I want her to bring my magic towel and put it on my head to suck away all the bad germs that have been trying to hurt me. All to be left the mommy kisses that would fight any bad feeling in my tummy and my head.

(Insert tears here.) (Give me about 2 minutes, then proceed.) That's me crying if you were trying to block that. Feel free to insert your own.

Get over it now. There's no room for sensitivity or weakness in this world. No one wants to see you break, it's just not allowed. I don't care for sympathy, I could use some empathy. Don't get caught relating to someone just like you. If this takes away from my character, than so be it. This is who I am. This is what I will never change.

Call me Achilles if you want. This world has a way to constantly stab at my heel. It usually misses because I am quick on my toes, but sometimes, just sometimes, I get hit and I fall.

So this is me on the ground. It took being sick to finally sit down and realize it. Ugh... I'm tired. I'm just so damn tired.

But like I said, get over it. Sitting and sulking will not do you any good.

So here I am. A fat head 24 year old girl face. I'm stronger than the bond between your grandma's gums and her chatterbox teeth. I don't care for fighting or arguing so if you don't have a point, I leave. I will climb mountains blindly without a harnass and bite cats if they bite me first. But here I am, sick in bed, like the little pussy I am, and I want my mommy.

For Lucas. Because I love you.