the air i breathe: worship as a way of life

I am my own.

I may not be able to live up to that at all times. Actually, I might have never been worse at living up to it. Yes, I check my phone 200 times a day, wishing for a kind message from you, one of those I received several times daily when I still thought you’re the one. Yes, your words work like a drug, like a painkiller, giving me relief from the nagging self doubt that has found its way back into my life. And yes, the way I see myself depends on how others treat and worship me, and even though I know that’s not how it should be, I am proud of myself for realizing that. If I’m unable to be happy by myself, happy about the person that I am, to stand on my own two feet, and if I’m treating you and your attention like it’s the air that I breathe, the worst thing I can do on top of that is beating myself up for it. I’m not perfect. I’m human. And growing is a process where sometimes we find ourselves back at square one. I know where I wanna be, I know I have reached that level of self love and independence before. And without a doubt I will reach it again. Right now I simply try to love myself for not being there yet. For being addicted to our love story, that ended worse than I would have ever been able to imagine. For feeling like I need you. I try to love myself for bursting into tears in meditation class and on the subway. And in the grocery store. I try to love myself for pretending you didn’t cheat on me and for trying to push the fact to the back of my mind that you broke my trust in the worst way. And that, regardless of all these things, I still love you. And now that I’m thinking about all those feelings, maybe I’m not back to square one. Maybe this is one of the most honest attempts throughout this journey so far. Because this time I’m not trying to optimize myself into this self confident, shiny version of myself, that doesn’t need others. This time I’m trying to accept the fact that I’m needy. I’m trying to accept that when the pain kicks in again all I wanna do is stand in the woods and scream so loud and long until my voice is gone. And this time, even though I’m acting like my life isn’t complete without you in it, deep down I still know, I am my own.