Crumbs
Why do I settle for crumbs? I mean, I know why. It’s all I’ve gotten. My body must have been hungry for so long. I must not have realized how much I was starving. And I would rather eat a snack than starve.
I would rather eat a snack than starve.
Then, I feel foolish…for popping my head up, eyes wide and hopeful, asking for seconds. How childish to think the other person offering crumbs as their best would change?
The reminder of hunger - that there is, indeed, not enough, and that the crumbs were, indeed, a fraud, floods me with feelings of rejection, abandonment, lack, intentional neglect, and shame for my desire.
And the loneliness. The loneliness is loud. It’s strong. My body aches from the lack of touch. My wounds throb in the absence of care or soothing. I ask but the answer is “No.” I S-P-E-L-L it out - what I want and what I need…
The answer is “you are too much and not enough. The mess of your desire, longing, humanity, hopeful flesh, and what you have to offer is unacceptable. And, if you speak up, you. Will. Be. Left.”
“…if you speak up, you will. be left.”
I continue to give. Generously. Give my heart, my body, my dreams, my care, my companionship. For two months, or for 15 years. Same familiar results.
This time, I don’t apologize for speaking up. Or do I? With my eloquent, hypervigilant words to draw you back in, to love me for a little bit longer.
Loneliness is the alternative to the other side. That’s scary. But…isn’t that what I already know here, right now?
Why does it hurt so much? The body is just trying to survive. It is doing what it does best with the conflicted, confusing information it has…to protect and keep me alive from the bear chasing me through the forest.
Young hungry parts and new wise parts and new hungry parts and young wise parts. I have always known there was more available to me, and that I was made for it. That part of my heart exists because of this truth. And I am still looking for it.
My Inner Child is still asking for answers… Damn, they ask good questions.