Will I ever be loved hugely, unconditionnally, with passion and admiration?
Will I ever meet this love I missed when I was a child?
Would I be able to appreciate it if it happened?
Won't I do all my best to destroy and divert it, because all I ever knew is a life without affection?
Will this day come where I'll be able to pronounce this sentence, "Yes, Mum, I love you", without tasting of dirt and trick? Few words, so natural, that make me sick...
I dread realizing that all these questions call only one answer, again and again : NO.
There is an abyss under my skin; it needs love to be filled with, but all the men I meet feel dizzy.
And I have to love me first. I just don't know how to do.
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