She asked me what I wanted one day. What would make me happy. The only answer I could come up with was that I wanted people who cared about me; and I wanted to know they cared. Growing up in a rather non-intimate family “love” was not a word used except in the occasional birthday or Christmas card. Never said out loud...not eve between my parents. I guess that is why relationships of all kinds are so important to me. I hate the feeling that someone is mad at me, looks down on me, thinks I did something, even something trivial, wrong.
Maybe its because I was born Christian, or maybe its just because of who I am, but I love people. I care deeply for my friends and would do anything to show them, prove it to them, let them know I am always here. I won’t lie and say I am never judgmental; but I think I do a pretty good job at accepting people for who they are and the things, good and bad, that they’ve done. I give 100%, usually, to those I care about.
So what makes me happy? Getting that in return. Not having to guess and wonder if they truly care, or if its just pretend, or if its just for a little while. No one wants to doubt that those whom they love may or may not love them back. With this being said, the reason I am not happy is because I doubt the love of those around me. I feel that one day the tides will change and the annoying things about me will override whatever positive attributes they think I have.
Maybe I expect too much from my friends and lovers. In that case, I should probably change my ways and learn to live with the fact that 100% means something different to each of us. They say love is all you need, but what happens when you need more?
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