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In love with being in love. That's common, right? Well, I'm in love with being alone. Or maybe I'm not in love with it; maybe it's all I know. I have become comfortable. I have attached myself to my routines and trivial schedules and I can't seem to let them go. But I will let them go! I will let them go and give myself permission to let other people love me.

Was that last sentence confusing? I feel like it was, but then again everything today has been confusing to me. I have felt like I am slightly out of sync with my body/mind. Like I am one step behind my body. Or I am in a dream. I wonder if it's just sleepy bones? Getting five hours of shut eye a night probably isn't cutting it. Plus, the weather. Plus, social interaction (even if it's good -- it still takes a lot of energy for us insufferable introverts). Plus, iron levels. Plus, overexercising. Still. Plus, not enough food. Yet. Plus. Minus. What can I minus in my life in order to feel more full? What can I take out so I can dive in? I am bored with waiting.

I need people to remind me to eat and to rest. I hate that I need help with such basic things. But I do need help. I have to tell my ego to shut up and I have to tell myself to speak up. I don't want to slip back. I want to grab my hand and push myself up that pile of rocks I call a mountain. I think I deserve to be nurtured. No, I do. I do think. No, I believe. I believe I deserve to be nurtured. There is a tangible power in saying those words. I better keep saying them.

I should not be alone. I should have brief periods of solitude. Everyone should. I should recharge and reconnect with myself and then go out there and embrace the love that waits and is ready for me. I deserve to be nurtured. I deserve to grab onto hands that are not my own, hands that are there to hold and help and heal. I deserve. I deserve. I deserve.