The minute you view a task as someone’s job, that is the minute you stop appreciating that task being done.
You keep going back and forth between you aren’t good for me and I am not good enough for you.
Just once I wish what I do, what I say, would be enough…sufficient…lacking nothing….or at least acceptable. Not stupid…useless…unromantic.
I have always been told God loves me just the way I am. I hope that is true, even on the days I am indifferent.
Even the desert blooms when the rains come.
I don’t always have to say everything I’m thinking.
I don’t always need you to tell me I’m attractive. Sometimes I just need you to tell me it’s ok that I’m not.
Go ahead and punish me
I wish you were here
Am I the greatest in your arsenal? Or just the latest in your art of war?