Black holes and spirals

I take and I take and I take and I take and still I search for more to fill this gaping hole inside me. I don’t even know what it’s from or why it’s there or how to fill it. It seems to be nothing more than a black hole that sucks in everything around it and leads to nowhere.

You’re so kind and so nice and you might be exactly what I’ve been yearning for for as long as I can remember. But still a little worm in the back of my mind is burrowing, itching, nagging.

What if something better comes along.

Honestly, how can you promise yourself to someone if you believe there’s something else out there? If you loved me, but there was someone else out there exactly like me but more attractive, surely you would pick them? Or at least privately want them more than me.

That’s what I’m getting at- sure, I have my personality, or so I think. Maybe I’m not as unique as I think I am. Maybe you’re not as unique as I think you are. How can I ever truly be happy if this is all I think about?

I always feel like there’s something more no matter how much I have. I will always be a puzzle one piece away from being completed. You deserve better. I think I deserve better. But I can’t just change who I am. I can’t just change what I think. It doesn’t work that way, but I wish it did. Life could be so much easier.

And that’s another thing wrong with me: I put too much emphasis on attractiveness.

Of course, I would never treat someone worse for me not finding them physically attractive. Their bodies are not for me to gawk at or for me to derive pleasure from. That is not their purpose.

But still I dream of a beautiful man that loves me too. But how can I ever expect that when I’m not particularly godly looking? I can’t be upset about that because that’s exactly how I feel towards others. And then I’m sucked into my black hole again: I’m not attractive enough. I’m not good enough.

Not yet.

I need more. Just a little more, it’ll fix it.

Or so I tell myself.