Somewhere along the line, I lost a part of myself.
Day after day, I searched for it. Never realizing that the unending emptiness I tried so hard to relieve, was because a piece of me was missing.
I kept searching outward. With only an aching feeling of dissatisfaction to lead me.
Days would pass, and no matter what I did, this yearning never completely diminished.
I am broken.
And despite how sad that little sentence sounds, I feel myself at peace with that admission.
It feels like a step forward.
One that leads me closer to whatever it is I lost. I now know that I’ve been looking for it in the wrong place.
Up until this point, my search for fulfillment had been through external means. I depended on others to validate my existence, my self worth. And every time I did this, I was left wondering why such instances only brought fleeting moments of satisfaction.
It never lasted, and it always kept me aching, grasping for that feeling of wholeness once again.
I can’t pinpoint when or how I’ve become this way.
Somehow, without me even knowing it, I was shattered into these scattered fragments. And without ever realizing it, I’ve been piecing myself back together again
I am incomplete.
Acknowledgement is the first step to healing.