Insatiable.

I thought that there was a hole in my heart in the shape of a man whose silhouettes I do not know yet.

For the past few months, I realise it’s not a man-shaped hole after all. Or girl-shaped. Or animal-shaped. I think it’s in the shape of a cactus, or a ficus. It’s hard to say.

It’s a hole though and it is hungry.

Weeks go by, it gets smaller and smaller. Maybe it’s knowing that at the end of the day, the heart you ought to love the most is yours first and foremost. Maybe it’s knowing your own worth in your own eyes and accepting the flaws only you know of and all the things that make you this magical creature of wonder. Maybe it’s doing all the things you love, even if sometimes it doesn’t make much sense to someone else because I’m the one who knows me best.

Being alone, learning all the ways to make it on my own and figuring out my place in the world is all it takes to fill that insatiable craving for something bigger than yourself.

This is it. I only have me.
That’s enough for now.