There’s a person I’ve ignored who has always been around me. He or she has been starving, but it’s not a fact I’ve ever noticed. I never realized that this thing needed to be fed.
I could romanticize her as a dark, edgy blob in the corner of the room, wearing a white gown with her long black hair covering her face. But really, I owe her the acknowledgement of her beauty. One could call her leech-like when it comes to mind that I can’t love anyone until she is sufficiently loved, but I’d rather not think of myself that way.
If it seems insane for me to talk like this… Well, Einstein would call me insane for never trying anything new. Irony is, the big rule used to be, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” But now the rule seems to be, “Love yourself as you would love another, otherwise, you can’t love freely.” At least in romance. And if, in order to love myself to any extent, I need to imagine my inner self as a frail, fragile little creature who I alone am responsible for… Then so be it.
Until my face is beautiful enough for me to love on its own, imagining another person inside of me will have to do. I’m no good at loving myself, but I’m really good at loving things that I find beautiful. One day, I’ll be beautiful. Or maybe I already am and I just have to find it. Either way, it seems I’ve found a crutch to lean on for the time being. I hope it serves me well. I hope it’s what God intends for me to rely on. Is it what God intends for me to rely on?