You…I miss you.

It’s been a tough week.

I’ve felt again that my efforts were not even half of what’s good enough.

I’ve heard dissatisfactions and I find it difficult to digest, to accept.

You and I both know that I am not a poodle.

A thinking being, critical of almost anything that concerns me, that’s who I am.

Sometimes you criticize me for being too rational; I explain my feelings.

I didn’t even have to try to be a woman in front of you. You were amused of the fact that there was a child in me that only you could see. But there was also a woman in me that only you could touch.

You weren’t really jealous but you were protective.

There were times you knew I was in trouble, you would ask me if I am scared, I’d tell you “Of course not.”

It was only because I knew I had you.

Perhaps, as a person matures and becomes more emotionally stable, fear becomes a part of being human, it’s no longer a threat.

Here I am, suddenly missing you. Years have changed me. Experiences have honed me.

You’ll notice many things different in me, perhaps you won’t even recognize. Everybody sees the woman in me and almost none from the child. Aaah, only the deserving man will see the child in me, the real me and will be allowed to touch the woman you see.

Fear when constant is no longer fear, they are realistic woes, I believe. I have them because I am aware of my responsibilities. If you’d ask me, I am not really scared. I am hurt.