Just Once Before I Die...

I just found a paper. I am not sure how long ago I wrote it. If I was going to guess, I'd say late teens, early 20s. It said something about how everyone thought it was so great that I was so independent, and so strong. But I wasn't happy about it. I was having to deal with many things on my own.

I had to be an "adult" long before I ever was one. By the time I was a Sophomore in high school, I was mostly on my own. I only went to college because *I* made it happen, and I paid for it. There was no one to hold me accountable, but me. There was no one to pay for it, but me. I started working when I was 16 and I worked through college.

Someone recently asked me if I thought that because people saw me as so strong, they thought I didn't need help. I don't know. I suspect it is possible. I also suspect that even in the midst of pain at various points in my life I was left alone because I was somehow seen as strong enough to be OK. But there were also many times I had no choice but to do what I had to do. And perhaps some have perceived that as strength.

Maybe it was. Maybe it is. So many times there was no one that I could depend upon. I had to make something happen if it was going to happen. It was up to one person. Me. But just because I have been strong, and just because I can be strong, doesn't mean that I am always capable of being strong, or even want to be.

It seems to me that being perceived as strong can be one of the loneliest places to be.

It would be really nice to have a someone to lean on for a change. To breathe a deep sigh of relief, and know that someone is there for me, to know that someone can help with the heavy lifting, and more. Even when I had someone who could have fit that bill by definition of "boyfriend," he was never someone I could trust would catch me if I fell, much less prevent me from falling.

Just once before I die...it would be nice.