I love you cheeses. I really fucking do. You deal with my shit relentlessly. You listen to my rants, forgive my shit motivation, and you try your damnedest to cheer me up. And you're all fucking heroic for that. Don't get me wrong, this in no way is demoting what you cheeses do for me. But I'm sure you can still understand when I say sometimes, it's just not enough.
I need a physical person. Someone who can actually hear me. Someone who can hold me while I cry, coddle me when I need to feel something. Someone who can sit there and listen to me degrade myself for as long as I need to, and still love me as if I never said a word. I need someone who knows I'm sick, and wants to help me get better. I need someone who can tell me they love me and they need me, and make it so I believe them. I need just one person who actually knows me: the full extend of my damage and my horrid actions and my unpredictable thoughts. And I need that person to love that me. Someone who can love the broken, the angry, the inconsolable, the needy, the clingy, the desperate, the sick, the real me.
I know it's way too much to ask. And I know no such person will ever exist out there. But damnit, it's just what I need. I need it to get better; it's that one last piece I'm missing in my desperate search to feel better.
And it's the fact that I will never find such a person that makes it so hard to keep wanting to get better.