Need Accept Tolerate

I need you to need the things I need. I need you to be ok with the amount of need I have. I need you to need different things and share them with me so that I can see if I need those things, too. Nothing has to match 100%. But when my need is HUGE, yours needs to be JUST AS HUGE AND DONT THINK I’M CRAZY FOR IT BEING SO HUGE.

I need our love languages to match.

Here’s the other thing. Please need things I don’t need. Please be ok with me watching reruns of friends while I eat ice cream out of the carton. Please go to that place you go where you talk about cars or sports or video games or building shit from toothpicks and determination. Its not my thing. But I need you to go do the things you do without me, without me.

I have a long laundry list of things you must need, accept, or tolerate. You can’t tolerate a HUGE NEED, though.

For instance, and I know this is silly, but I have pink sheets. Right there in my profile picture. You have to tolerate being tangled up in pink sheets. I need to sustain a repetitive motion to fall asleep when I’ve had a nightmare. You must accept, not tolerate that from me. I need to sit in your lap. You must need me to sit in your lap. Not tolerate, not accept, NEED me to sit in your lap.

I have things that other people would look at and dismiss as superficial wants. Am I going to die without this thing? No? Then its safe to say its a want. But in my head its a need. I need to sit in the dark on my pet bed and be still. I would like the person I’m with to understand and make sure that I have the time and space to do this.

I have an ingrained need to ask the people I care about if they are ok, if I can do anything. I have a desperate need to check in on people. If I have an intimate relationship with someone that need to check in is deep and personal. Its selfish of me. I’m not checking on you for you. I’m checking on you for me.

So I’m sitting here thinking about who I am, what I need, what I want, what I will accept, and what I will not accept. I’m sitting here thinking about what I have to offer. All of the things that I am, and all of the things I’m not. I’m thinking about tangled balls of string and wax. Trying to unravel it to find the beginning, trying to decide if its worth looking for.

I don’t want anything significant right now. Well that’s not true. I have significant intimate relationships with people already. I have people that I love, and that love me.

I’d like to figure myself out. I’d like to know myself better. In a lot of ways, I’m a stranger to myself. I know this is very similar to my other journal. I’m still thinking.

Still.

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