It’s been a tradition of mine to be a rebel unwilling to listen and conform. Why? The truth is  I really don’t know, because it seems as though I wanted to go down a road of self-destruction for the longest time. What is it that I was trying to prove to myself and others? You would think that I certainly would know the answer but honestly after moments of deep inner searching and self-reflection I still have no solid answers. What was it that drove me to live the life of a victim, searching in all the wrong places for love, to be loved?

All that I ever wanted was for someone to love me – truly love me. Why has this been so hard for me to find, had I put up invisible barriers which kept true love out, letting in only fragmented morsels on occasion but always leaving me with a huge sense of emptiness.

The only true and unconditional love that I had ever really known was that given by children. Why is it that children are born with a sense of love but then with age this is lost, as the years go by, like pages being turned in a book, we forget what it is to love…

©2013 Diana Householder


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