I found myself apologizing to a man again. Saying sorry for being “too complicated ” as if it were my fault he couldn’t manage the depths and layers of my being. As if him not having an ounce of emotional intelligence was somehow my fault. I apologized because I wanted to know I still mattered, even if he refused to see me. 

Having the past that I do makes dating a little harder, and boundaries even more important (I see this now). I grasp and claw and beg to be seen, heard, understood. To matter. To matter like I didn’t in my childhood.   To matter like I didn’t in my past relationships.  To matter like I never have to even myself.

To be fully seen with all of my layers, colors, and glory and fully embraced.  Someone shouting that I am fully welcomed and recieved.  That I matter.

Because at the end of the day, that is what we all want to know.  That we matter.