How it feels to need someone to love

Confidant, where are you? |

Soul, do you love?


written: Mar. 17, 2019 – 7pm

… … …

Soul, do you love? 

I took time to research a theory of what may cause a child to develop nonheterosexual feelings.  Almost like the Oedipus complex, a child who does not have a good relationship with his father may become close to his mother but in a way of imitation.  In a son’s case, he may look for the masculine father-figure he lacks in other people.  Therefore, going to other men to satisfy this hole.  Not really like the complex now, a daughter who experiences conflict with her mother may look to other women for motherly love.  However, how far does this go?  Does this truly cause means of infatuating feelings for other women?   

*(please note:) Just thoughts that I had and jotted down; I usually do “stream of consciousness” when I write- I do not mean to draw conclusions or offend anyone~

I am still figuring out what it is that I am really looking for.  I have vowed to wait for it, no matter how excruciating the process, but I sense a rebellious spirit in me that would be willing to compromise to be in a mutual compact, even when it is defined under unsaid circumstances.  “Forbidden” circumstances as well.  I may have become someone I never thought I would be.  Or, I could just be craving someone whom I have always been looking for.   

I know life on earth is small, but when I will be loving and loved by others in return, it is worth every breath.  It is hard to appreciate my small existence when I feel like a narcissist.  I am selfish in every way and I always look for someone who will fulfill my needs.  I know that I want someone who needs me to, but is it too selfish to keep searching?   

I am true to myself, but are my feelings true to me?  Do I really love them, or is it just a lustful desire?  If I truly love who they really are, will they respond?  Will they love me back?  And if they do, will they be taken away from me?  It is the no-man’s-land of these territories that I mark to be my restraining fears:  my own unvalidated feelings, rejection, and the heartbreak that will break me before I am able to break my loyalty.  I love hard.  They do not know, they will never know, but as long as they breathe, I will love them for who they are and who they will become to be.   But it is in another’s will, whether they will be taken away from me.   

Part 1: How it feels to need someone to talk to


How it feels to need someone to talk to

Photo: Korney Violin

Confidant, where are you? |

Soul, do you love?


written: Mar. 17, 2019 – 7pm

… … …

Confidant, where are you? 

I feel that I lack having a confidant. I crave to have another human being on this earth who understands me and wants to genuinely spend time with me.  I find kind, loving people but they usually only carry one or the other criteria.  I have been searching and searching.  I try not to, but I know that I want it. 

I do not have someone like this (yet) so I tend to make do with what I have.  I don’t like to hold others in a negative light so I always give them a second chance.  But when I open up to them, they do not understand.  They take things that mean a lot to me very personally.  I have to tread lightly on the grounds of certain topics.  They blame my being distant from them on me; I test the waters every time before I decide it is safe.  Usually they don’t even pay attention, but when they do, I never feel comfortable to readily give them what’s been sitting in my soul for years.   

I wonder when they will ever know my past addiction or my first crush, how I learned they are not perfect even though they are my parent, or my current struggle with my “identity”.    There are so many things they do not know.  Like the girl from Everything, Everything by Nicola Yoon, I am separated from them because I have secrets to keep.  Also, like the girl’s mom, they are also unsuspecting; they are naïve in their own innocent ways.   

It’s not like I’ve never tried to explain it to them.  I have tried.  But I have tried without outcome.  It has stayed the same.  When I bring it up, I feel ridiculed.  I will not ever say that they are intentionally ridiculing me, but I will not deny that I do feel like I am never taken seriously.  But that is not because they are unkind or uncaring.  They have their own problems.  Everyone has their own problems but sometimes (most of the time), their’s do not align with your own.  Therefore, how can they understand?   

I know that when I find a kindred soul… it sounds so wrong because I know humans cannot satisfy… I will recognize something in that person that looks like myself.  They will be different, but very close to my heart.  Did God make people for each other?  I am sure he did, as we cannot live on our own.  But I am also told not to depend on other people.  Not to trust.  Not to “give my heart away”.  Not to rely on others for your happiness.  So that is what I have done.  But I only am at my happiest when I have experienced joys with other people.  How can I only be content in God when there is no third person involved?  I know God is my portion and my true love and my strength.  This I know and have experienced.  But I feel that I must constantly have connections with other people in order to feel loved and meaningful and needed and understood.   

Why Do I Feel So Sure?

‘Questioning These Feelings’

/ written: Sept. 11, 2018 – 11:56 pm /

… … …

There is comfort acknowledging his presence  

Security acknowledging his faith 

Grace hinting in his steps  

That I have 


Noticed before until after that day 

It’s not like… maybe it was just psychological attraction triggers unless my gut is telling me 

Sending me messages 

I do not comprehend 

An Open Letter to Self Pity

‘An Introduction to my Friend S.P.’

/ written: Feb. 18, 2018 /

… … …

  So, Joy visited me today and it was one heck of a time.  I barely saw her in the last months of 2017.  It’s nice to have her back. 

        Our friendship has been inconsistent.  Probably it was a fault on my part. I found a cove of endless excuses to keep her at a distance. She could wait—my self-pity could visit first. 

It was no big deal, 

Until Self-Pity started sitting on me: “S.P,” I said to her, “You’re crushing me!”  

But did she care? 

        Self Pity was arrogant, persistent–but dangerously, Self Pity was silent. 

She loooved to give me a sneak here and there. Oooh… Self Pity was a


A brat. I became like her,  

And she loved it too. 

        We cried together, drowned in our tears. We punched each other in the face and kicked others away too. Then we laughed—we had lots of fun with that too. Once day S.P told me that being broken was good. Being empty was beneficial. She said being low made you so high up. Others would pity you—your emptiness. Then they would fill you up. 

        But what S.P never told me was how hard it was for others to notice. How engrossed others were in their problems. How the world cared for its own problems too. 

        So S.P told me to be angry. To glare at my sister who had all the friendship a girl could want. 

        S.P, I liked your idea. I liked it a lot. When no one heard me, I shouted. I tried to create scars so someone would see. Someone would comfort me. Someone would take me aside and be my friend. 

        You watched me, S.P, but you didn’t laugh. 

You cried. 

        “You desperate girl!” You would shout, “You’re not trying hard enough, You’re not even trying!”  

“Why go to church?” You would tell me, “You’re too bad of a flunk and an even worse faker too. You should just stay home. What’s the point of going if you still will cry at night? You poor soul, just like me, we’re way too lost anyways!”  

And I thought, “yeah.” 

I agreed with you and we continued beating each other up once more.  

        S.P, you loved teaching me that emptiness was good.  But I’m here to tell you that emptiness comes with a choice. The people do fill you up. Fast too. But they never stay, S.P, they rarely do. They move on. They care for themselves. You are filled for a moment, then you return to the carcass half-full. It’s a scheme for fullness—it’s the illusion that makes you think you’re there  

But you’re not. 

Will we ever be full

I don’t really know yet. However, and listen to me, the only way I’ve reached “almost full” was when I was surrounded by the “fullness” of who I believe in. He makes you feel enough. He makes you enough. And in my emptiest time—with Him, I was full.  

~ Raey ~

… … …

It’s been a while since S.P. has visited me. She still gives my door a kick and spits on my front porch. But I haven’t let her come in past my door frame. I don’t wallow in self-pity as much as I used to, but I do have other emotions I befriended a long time ago. I still feel empty. I still do. I think… it’s what you choose to do in your emptiness. Because emptiness is inevitable. Unfortunately.

⭐ Reminds me of: Inevitable by Orla Gartland

Holding On (to Hope)

‘New Hope on the Night of Solemn Silence’

/ written: Oct. 27, 2017 /

/ inspirations: ‘To Sit In Solemn Silence’ | Edge Studio /

… … …

But oh, what could she do? 

She sailed through solemn silence in a sinking submarine 

her head went underwater, her thoughts began to scream. 

She held herself afloat, 

and holding on to tiny hope 

the sword that pulled her through. 

But oh, what could she do? 

Now afloat, without a boat, in the middle of the sea 

She took the sword and slashed it forward, hurling the waves at bay. 

The storm calmed, the peril stopped, but woe, the sky was blue 

not blue as the night, nor blue like a light, but of the impending gloom. 

But oh, what could she do? 

She swam ashore with the one thing worth more 

something that you lived for. 

It gave in light and calmed the plight on the night of solemn silence. 

The sword she bore could float no more once she dragged it on to shore.  She fell to the floor and held it no more 

and the dark began to scream 

It clawed at its hilt, it went full tilt 

Until she took it up again. 

And the sky turned to crimson. 

Not red as a nose, or the blood on the thorn of a rose, but of a silken ribbon. 

It danced in the sky and said goodbye, “I don’t like you.  I’m leaving.” 

But she clasped the sword’s hilt and thought she felt a sudden new emotion 

It was true– more than anything she knew on the night of solemn silence. 

‘Momentary Friendships’ (1/2)

/ written: Sept. 23, 2018 – 11:30pm /

… … …

~ Raey ~

… … …

This was something I wrote when I started feeling sad out of the blue. It was scary thinking about all of this. I know I didn’t have many reasons to worry, but I only felt better after transferring my feelings to words. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Was it just me or does this also resonate with you?

‘Undiagnosed Feelings’

‘Will You Listen to My Undiagnosed Feelings?’

/ written: Jul. 24, 2018 – 11:02pm /

… … …

I have all my ups and downs.  Every night and every day.  Every two hours I feel a different feeling on a “bad” day.   

I wonder 

am I full of undiagnosed feelings?  

Each night makes me crave to share my thoughts with another being.  Because as much as we fight against it, the night makes us more honest. More intimate. Sensual. Drawn to disclose– to lighten our loads; to do this, simply transferring our worries, philosophies, dreams, values, onto another person’s mind.  

But sometimes we just lack the person.  

Their mind is there. Intact. Unflawed.  

But as you hunger for conversations sparked with meaning, they are never present.  

And years later they will ask, they will blame, as they exclaim in resent how betrayed THEy feel that they never knew YoU.  They never knew what you went through. What you felt. What you believed. “What strength?” they ask as you fall into weaker seasons. Why, they had not a clue of the values you held on to, as well as all the quiet sorrow and angst you never could move on from.

Because you never told them. They never listened to you. 

Someday maybe they will read this and know who they are. Or the broken pieces of a child will take these words in and cling to them. Relating every sentence on this white screen to their life or the lives they’ve lived for all the people they knew who never knew ThEM.  

It is unfair but it is true to its existence. Yes, I have all the able people in the world. Not one with a ready ear. 

And maybe I am selfish. Blind, you may say. I will never know if these words I write, these simple thoughts I think, the many values I hold true, are accurate, honest– real.  

~ Raey ~

My First Ever “Heart Hit” Post

‘Unspoken Feelings’

/ written: Oct. 20, 2017 – 10:30am /

… … …

I didn’t want to go to your house 

To have to talk to you 

To try not to be a fool 

To try not to laugh too much 

To draw attention to what my heart may feel if I talk to you 

But that was my mind. My heart still wanted to go. 

It was avoided, 



A little virus on one of our sides. A little cold. 

“Good.” I thought. I could move on. I thought I would be finished feeling immature. 

Starting to believe I would never see you again, I was wrong. 

I stand at the door and I finally step inside. 

With an unsure smile, a quick glance to my left 

And there you are

I hugged your sister before I waved hello 





You smiled, it was great. 

And in your wave was a nervous rhythm– you waved with your arm up and I watched it snap back down. 

It was the quickest wave I have ever seen 

It was great 

Just like you (oh great… um, let me cut that out because this isn’t supposed to be a teenage drama write) 

<– I can’t believe I wrote that. Uh no, it wasn’t me.

I could sense the feeling behind your wave but I still try to decode its meaning until now. 

In the end I stood at the same door. 

But this time it was near you. 

I waved goodbye and said your name 

as I spotted you 

sitting on the bottom of the staircase 

You didn’t hear me and my heart started to sink back down 

But it was only a moment later when you caught my eye 

You smiled your mysterious smile and spoke two words I’ve heard before. A familiar phrase. 

After so many years I hear it once again 

“See you” 

Like you’re still my close friend. 

~ Raey ~