Why I Hate Holidays...

I don't really hate holidays. The problem is that I have this idea in my head of what a perfect holiday should be like and it never comes true. In the past my holidays have always included some huge family fight and not enough money. So every year, I still get my hopes up that this holiday will be the perfect one. That everything will go without a hitch, nobody will fight, there will be enough of everything. And every year I expect to be disappointed therefore I am...So screw holidays! I want to go on strike and never celebrate another one again. They are all commercialized anyways. Just another excuse to spend money! It's no wonder that everyone fights, everyone has performance anxiety, worried about money, and they're forced to spend time with people they don't necessarily even like just because they're family. Just because your family and you may love one another doesn't mean you can stand the sight, or smell or one another!

On a more lighter note, I think I have figured out the costume situation for our seven children. Yes, I said seven. We try to keep it cheap because we have no other choice. We figure it's supposed to be cold tonight and everyone ends up wearing coats every year anyways so we just bought stuff for the face and the head. The two youngest, two years and four years, get their costumes bought because we did the same for the older ones at that age. The youngest two will be Piglet and Cookie Monster! And on a positive note, think about all the candy seven children can haul in! You guessed it, the kids will be selling candy to their classmates long after the other kids candy has all ran out! And the best part of it all is that as parents we must "inspect" the candy before any of it has been eaten so we get the distinction of being able to "safely remove" any candy we deemed fit for our stomachs only. So have a spooky Halloween, enjoy yourself, eat or be eaten! Save the dread for Thanksgiving and Christmas when the pressure is on and the whole family gets together to sit on pins and needles until the first fight breaks out. Maybe, I'll just spend this year with Lyle and the kids. That way the only fights will be between the kids...

Lyle

Lyle,

I love you with my heart and soul,

With depths deeper than you'll ever know,

My love transcends butterflies in my belly,

I love you when you come home from work all smelly, :0)

I loved you when we didn't have a place to sleep,

I love you with a love that's deep,

I love you when there's lots of bills and little money,

When life feels like there is little that's funny,

I love you when we get depressed,

I love you when our life is a mess,

I love you when you don't feel good,

When you bellow, growl, and you're in a bad mood,

I love you in good times and bad,

I love you when I am happy and when I am sad,

I love you.

Leticia

Deepest Pain

Love so exquisite is as a burning throbbing pain searing your soul that will only turn to music as two become one whole.

So I am Still Worried

I am still worried about Lyle. I am worried about his health and he is stubborn as a mule. He refuses to go back to the doctor's because he says they don't help. They haven't yet helped him, he feels the same, and he still doesn't know for sure what's wrong. His moods change at the drop of the hat and what makes it unbearable for me is that he is supposed to be the constant. He starts getting these pounding migraines that can last up to four days. He can't sleep because it hurts so bad. He gets angry, nasty, snappy, and becomes defensive about anything and everything. I know that a lot of it is from the pain but today he started in again. We were cleaning the porch and he started snapping at me. I started bawling because I just can't take it anymore. I told him he has to see a doctor, he needs to find out what's the matter with him, because I can't take it. Sometimes I kid with him because I don't know how else to deal with it. Sometimes I wonder if it is like dealing with me when I was pregnant and hormonal. If so he deserves some kind of medal. My emotional roller coaster has enough ups and downs in it, his are knocking the cars off the track.

Another

To Adele Foucher (1821)

My dearest,
When two souls, which have sought each other for, however long in the throng, have finally found each other...a union, fiery and pure as they themselves are...begins on earth and continues forever in heaven.This union is love, true love,...a religion, which deifies the loved one,whose life comes from devotion and passion, and for which the greatest sacrifices are the sweetest delights. This is the love which you inspire in me...Your soul is made to love with the purity and passion of angels; but perhaps it can only love another angel, in which case I must tremble with apprehension.

Yours forever,
Victor Hugo

Famous Love Letters

My Dearest Friend,

...should I draw you the picture of my heart it would be what I hope you would still love though it contained nothing new. The early possession you obtained there, and the absolute power you have obtained over it, leaves not the smallest space unoccupied.

I look back to the early days of our acquaintance and friendship as to the days of love and innocence, and, with an indescribable pleasure, I have seen near a score of years roll over our heads with an affection heightened and improved by time, nor have the dreary years of absence in the smallest degree effaced from my mind the image of the dear untitled man to whom I gave my heart.

Abigail Adams to John Adams, her husband. He became the second president of the United States. Written December 23, 1782


May 12, 1869

Out of the depths of my happy heart wells a great tide of love and prayer for this priceless treasure that is confided to my life-long keeping.

You cannot see its intangible waves as they flow towards you, darling, but in these lines you will hear, as it were, the distant beating of the surf.

Mark Twain (Samuel Langhorne Clemens), American writer, to Olivia Langdon, his future wife.

A Little Bit Goes A Long Way

It's funny how a little bit goes a long way when it comes to communication. It seems like sometimes you can get caught in little ruts. It also seems like the longer you go without communicating and affection the more annoyed you get at one another for little things, and the more annoyed you get the more annoying you become. And if you feel hurt the more you try to hurt back and it becomes quite the vicious circle. This is especially true when the two parties are stubborn. Anyways, my life once again feels in harmony, I hate it when Lyle and I are out of sync, it makes everything miserable. Together and in sync we are harmony. But when it is out of sync everything feels and sounds like a piano out of tune. All the notes are harsh and clashing against one another and even the most beautiful song sounds like trash. He is the calm in my storm of emotions, the light in my dark night, he is the balance of my extremes, he is my sun, moon, stars, and without our harmony my life is bleak, gray, and stormy. He makes me whole.

What I Long For

This was written by a man to his wife.

You will soon be 82. You have shrunk six centimeters and you weigh just 45 kilos and you are still beautiful, gracious and desirable. It is now 58 years that we have lived together and I love you more than ever.

I took a photo of you, from behind: you are walking with your feet in the water on the beach of La Jolla. You are 52. You are amazing. It’s one of the images of you that I like best.

I looked at that photo for a long while after we got back home, when you told me you wondered if you didn’t have some sort of cancer. You’d already wondered that before we left for the United States but hadn’t wanted to say anything to me. Why not? ‘If I have to die, I wanted to see California beforehand,’ you told me calmly.

Your endometrial cancer hadn’t been picked up in your annual checkup. Once the diagnosis was made and the date of the operation set, we went to spend a week in the house you’d designed. I carved your name in the stone with a chisel. That house was magic. All the spaces had a trapezoidal shape. The bedroom windows looked out over the treetops.

The first night, we didn’t sleep. We were both listening to each other breathing. Then a nightingale started singing and a second one, further away, started answering. We said very little to each other. I spent the day digging and looked up from time to time at the bedroom window. You were standing there, motionless, staring into the distance. I am sure you were practising taming death in order to fight it without fear. You were so beautiful and so determined in your silence that I couldn’t imagine you giving up living.

I took time off from Le Nouvel Observateur and shared your room at the clinic. The first night, through the open window, I heard all of Schubert’s Ninth Symphony. It is etched in me, every note. I remember every moment spent at the clinic. Pierre, our doctor friend from the CNRS (Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique), who came to hear your latest news every morning, said to me: ‘You are going through moments of exceptional intensity. You’ll remember this always.’ I wanted to know what chances the oncol-ogist gave you of surviving five years. Pierre brought me the answer: ‘50-50.’

When you came out of the clinic we went back to our house. Your spirit thrilled me and reassured me. You’d escaped death and life took on a new meaning and a new value. A friend immediately understood this when you saw him at a party. He stared into your eyes for a long time and he said to you: ‘You’ve seen the other side.’ I don’t know how you responded or what else you said. But these are the words he said to me, straight afterwards: ‘Those eyes! Now I understand what she means to you.’

You had seen ‘the other side’; you’d come back from the land no one comes back from. This changed your perspective. We made the same resolution without consulting each other. An English Romantic once summed it up in a sentence: ‘There is no wealth but life.’

During the months you were convalescing, I decided to take my retirement at 60. I started counting the weeks till I could pack up. I took pleasure in cooking, in tracking down organic produce that would help you get your strength back, in ordering the specially tailored medications that a homeopath had recommended you take.

Ecology became a way of life and a daily practice without ceasing to imply the requirement of a completely different civilisation. I’d reached the age where you ask yourself what you’ve done with your life, what you would like to have done with it. I had the impression of not having lived my life, of having always observed it at a distance, of having developed only one side of myself and being poor as a person. You were, and always had been, richer than I was. You’d blossomed and grown in every dimension. You were at home in your life; whereas I’d always been in a hurry to move on to the next task, as though our life would only really begin later.

I asked myself what was the inessential that I needed to give up in order to concentrate on the essential. I told myself that, to grasp the reach of the upheavals that were looming in every domain, there had to be more space and time for reflection than the full-time exercise of my profession as a journalist allowed.

I was amazed that my leaving the journal, after 20 years of collaboration, was neither painful to myself nor to others. I remember having written that, at the end of the day, only one thing was essential to me: to be with you. I can’t imagine continuing to write, if you no longer are. You are the essential without which all the rest, no matter how important it seems to me when you are there, loses its meaning and its importance. I told you that in the dedication of my last work.

Twenty-three years have gone by since we went off to live in the country, first in ‘your’ house, which radiated a sense of meditative harmony. A harmony we enjoyed for only three years. They started building a nuclear power station nearby and that drove us away. We found another house, very old, cool in summer, warm in winter, with huge grounds. It was a place where you could be happy.

Where there was only a meadow you created a garden of hedges and shrubs. I planted 200 trees there. For a few years we still did a bit of travelling; but all the vibrating and jolting around involved in any means of transport, no matter what, triggers headaches and pain through your whole body. Arach-noiditis has forced you, little by little, to abandon most of your favourite activities. You hide your suffering. Our friends think you’re ‘in great shape’. You’ve never stopped encouraging me to write. Over the 23 years we’ve spent in our house, I’ve published six books and hundreds of articles and interviews.

We’ve had dozens of visitors from every corner of the globe and I’ve given dozens of interviews. I surely have not lived up to the resolution made 30 years ago: to live completely at home in the present, mindful above all of the richness that is our shared life. I’m now reliving the instants when I made that resolution with a sense of urgency. I don’t have any major work in the pipeline. I don’t want ‘to put off living till later’ - in Georges Bataille’s phrase – any longer.

I am as mindful of your presence now as in the early days and would like to make you feel that. You’ve given me all of your life and all of you; I’d like to be able to give you all of me in the time we have left.

You’ve just turned 82. You are still beautiful, graceful and desirable. We’ve lived together now for 58 years and I love you more than ever. Lately I’ve fallen in love with you all over again and I once more carry inside me a gnawing emptiness that can only be filled by your body snuggled up against mine.

At night I sometimes see the figure of a man, on an empty road in a deserted landscape, walking behind a hearse. I am that man. It’s you the hearse is carrying away. I don’t want to be there for your cremation; I don’t want to be given an urn with your ashes in it. I hear the voice of Kathleen Ferrier singing, ‘Die Welt ist leer, Ich will nicht leben mehr’ and I wake up. I check your breathing, my hand brushes over you.

Each of us would like not to survive the other’s death. We’ve often said to ourselves that if, by some miracle, we were to have a second life, we’d like to spend it together. ’

Signs of the End

When a relationship is dying you can hear it, see it, and most of all feel it. You could be sitting in a room next to the one you love and to an outsider everything would look normal. But at closer inspection one or both of you are leaning away from one another and avoiding any kinds of contact. I hear it, see it, feel it. How do you keep a relationship alive when everything it used to be and you used to love about it is no longer there. Do you stay because you remember how good it was and somehow hope that what was and what is will somehow become one again? What happens when you can't even have a conversation without arguing and you fight while trying to be intimate. When one of you hurts and the other one no longer even attempts to comfort? How do you fix it when it breaks? How do you make it better when everything you do makes it worse? When you mourn the death of something beautiful and your asked what you're bawling about? What changes so much that in the beginning you can talk forever or not talk at all but feel content? And how you can't get any closer because everywhere you go you touch, a hand touch, a gaze, a kiss? And then you don't touch for days, weeks, months. I want to fix it, it's worth fixing. When it's whole it's beautiful and something I want to last forever.

Letting People In

I often get accused of being antisocial or introverted. I am friendly with many people at work and get along with everyone but in my personal life I am solitary. I have my family but I don't socialize with others. Sometimes I say that "I don't play well with others." I keep people at a superficial distance and don't allow them to get too close. The reason for this is that I expect to be disappointed, hurt, let down, etc. so in order to avoid this I don't let people in. The thing that gets me, is when I do let someone in my cave and then I get hurt or disappointed. Usually, I am more pissed at myself than anyone else because I failed at protecting myself and keeping them out. Well, I failed again. I let someone in, got to remember how much it hurts next time I think about doing it.

40 MISTAKES MEN MAKE WHILE HAVING SEX WITH WOMEN

(Some Men Really Need To Read This)

1) NOT KISSING FIRST.
Avoiding her lips and diving straight for the erogenous zones makes her
feel like you're paying by the hour and trying to get your money's worth by
cutting out nonessentials. A proper passionate kiss is the ultimate form of
foreplay.



2) BLOWING TOO HARD IN HER EAR.
Admit it, some kid at school told you girls love this. Well, there's a
difference between being erotic and blowing as if you're trying to
extinguish the candles on your 50th birthday cake. That hurts.



3) NOT SHAVING.
You often forget you have a porcupine strapped to your chin which you
rake repeatedly across your partner's face and thighs. When she turns her head
from side to side, it's not passion, it's avoidance.



4) SQUEEZING HER BREAST.
Most men act like a housewife testing a melon for ripeness when they get
their hand on a pair. Stroke, caress, and smooth them.



5) BITING HER NIPPLES.
Why do men fasten onto a woman's nipples, then clamp down like they're
trying to deflate her body via her breasts? Nipples are highly sensitive.
They can't stand up to chewing. Lick and suck them gently. Flicking your
tongue across them is good. Pretending they're a doggie toy isn't.



6) TWIDDLING HER NIPPLES.
Stop doing that thing where you twiddle the nipples between finger and
thumb like you're trying to find a radio station in a hilly area. Focus on
the whole breasts, not just the exclamation points.



7) IGNORING THE OTHER PARTS OF HER BODY.
A woman is not a highway with just three turnoffs: Breastville East and
West, and the Midtown Tunnel. There are vast areas of her body which you've
ignored far too often as you go bombing straight into downtown Vagina. So
start paying them some attention.



8) GETTING THE HAND TRAPPED.
Poor manual dexterity in the underskirt region can result in tangled
fingers and underpants. If you're going to be that aggressive, just ask her
to take the damn things off.



9) LEAVING HER A LITTLE PRESENT.
Condom disposal is the man's responsibility. You wore it, you store it.



10) ATTACKING THE CLITORIS.
Direct pressure is very unpleasant, so gently rotate your fingers along
side of the clitoris.



11) STOPPING FOR A BREAK.
Women, unlike men, don't pick up where they left off. If you stop, they

plummet back to square one very fast. If you can tell she's not there, keep

going at all costs, numb jaw or not.



12) UNDRESSING HER AWKWARDLY.
Women hate looking stupid, but stupid she will look when naked at the
waist with a sweater stuck over her head. Unwrap her like an elegant
present, not a kid's toy.



13) GIVING HER A WEDGIE DURING FOREPLAY.
Stroking her gently through her panties can be very sexy. Pulling the
material up between her thighs and yanking it back and forth is not.



14) BEING OBSESSED WITH THE VAGINA.
Although most men can find the clitoris without maps, they still
believe that the vagina is where it's all at. No sooner is your hand down there
than you're trying to stuff stolen banknotes up a chimney. This is okay in
principle, but if you're not careful, it can hurt - so don't get carried
away. It's best to pay more attention to her clitoris and the exterior of
her vagina at first, then gently slip a finger inside her
and see if she likes it.



15) MASSAGING TOO ROUGHLY.
You're attempting to give her a sensual, relaxing massage to get her in
the mood. Hands and fingertips are okay; elbows and knees are not.



16) UNDRESSING PREMATURELY.
Don't force the issue by stripping before she's at least made some move
toward getting your stuff off, even if it's just undoing a couple of
buttons.



17) TAKING YOUR PANTS OFF FIRST.
A man in socks and underpants is at his worst. Lose the socks first.



18) GOING TOO FAST.
When you get to the penis-in-vagina situation, the worst thing you can do
is pump away like an industrial power tool - she'll soon feel like an
assembly line worker made obsolete by your technology. Build up slowly,
with clean, straight, regular thrusts.



19) GOING TOO HARD.
If you bash your great triangular hip bones into her thigh or stomach,
the pain is equal to two weeks of horseback riding concentrated into a few
seconds.



20) COMING TOO SOON.
Every man's fear. With reason. If you shoot before you see the whites
of her eyes, make sure you have a backup plan to ensure her pleasure too.



21) NOT COMING SOON ENOUGH.
It may appear to you that humping for an hour without climaxing is the
mark of a sex god, but to her it's more likely the mark of a numb vagina. At
least buy some intriguing wall hangings, so she has something to hold her
interest while you're playing Marathon Man.



22) ASKING IF SHE HAS COME.
You really ought to be able to tell. Most women make noise. But if you
really don't know, don't ask



23) PERFORMING ORAL SEX TOO GENTLY.
Don't act like a giant cat at a saucer of milk. Get your whole mouth
down there, and concentrate on gently rotating or flicking your tongue on her
clitoris.



24) NUDGING HER HEAD DOWN.
Men persist in doing this until she's eyeball-to-penis, hoping that it
will lead very swiftly to mouth-to-penis. All women hate this. It's about
three steps from being dragged to a cave by their hair. If you want her to
use her mouth, use yours; try talking seductively to her.



25) NOT WARNING HER BEFORE YOU CLIMAX.
Sperm tastes like sea water mixed with egg white. Not everybody likes
it. When she's performing oral sex, warn her before you come so she can do
what's necessary.



26) MOVING AROUND DURING FELLATIO.
Don't thrust. She'll do all the moving during fellatio. You just lie
there. And don't grab her head.



27) TAKING ETIQUETTE ADVICE FROM PORN MOVIES.
In X-rated movies, women seem to love it when men ejaculate over
them. In real life, it just means more laundry to do.



28) MAKING HER RIDE ON TOP FOR AGES.
Asking her to be on top is fine. Lying there grunting while she does
all the hard work is not. Caress her gently, so that she doesn't feel quite so
much like the captain of a schooner. And let her have a rest. Unless of course she finds that riding allows her just the right pressure on her clitoris to have a raging orgasm!



29) ATTEMPTING ANAL SEX AND PRETENDING IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.
This is how men earn a reputation for not being able to follow
directions. If you want to put it there, ask her first. And don't think that being
drunk is an excuse. You could get kicked across the room.



30) TAKING PICTURES.
When a man says, "Can I take a photo of you?" she'll hear the
words"__to show my buddies." At least let her have custody of them.



31) NOT BEING IMAGINATIVE ENOUGH.
Imagination is anything from drawing patterns on her back to pouring
honey on her and licking it off. Fruit, vegetables, ice and feathers are all
handy props; hot candle wax and permanent dye are a no no.



32) SLAPPING YOUR STOMACH AGAINST HERS.
There is no less erotic noise. It's as sexy as a belching contest.



33) ARRANGING HER IN STUPID POSES.
If she wants to do advanced yoga in bed, fine, but unless she's a
Romanian gymnast, don't get too ambitious. Ask yourself if you want a sexual partner
with snapped hamstrings.



34) LOOKING FOR HER PROSTATE.
Read this carefully: Anal stimulation feels good for men because they
have a prostate. Women don't.



35) GIVING LOVE BITES.
It is highly erotic to exert some gentle suction on the sides of the
neck, if you do it carefully. No woman wants to have to wear turtlenecks and
jaunty scarves for weeks on end.



36) BARKING INSTRUCTIONS.
Don't shout encouragement like a coach with a megaphone. It's not a big
turn-on.



37) TALKING DIRTY.
It makes you sound like a lonely magazine editor calling a 1-900line.
If she likes nasty talk, she'll let you know, then you can let it rip.



38) NOT CARING WHETHER SHE COMES.
You have to finish the job. Keep on trying until you get it right, and she
might even do the same for you.



39) SQUASHING HER.
Men generally weigh more than women, so if you lie on her a bit too
heavily, she will turn blue.



40) THANKING HER.
Never thank a woman for having sex with you. Your bedroom is not a
soup kitchen.

Personality Results lol

You are exceptional and unique. Your quest in life is to identify exactly who you are and why you’re here. What’s important to you is the journey of self discovery, determining who you are today is not the same as who you’ll be tomorrow.


You resist being categorized and are quick to question any social standard that you sense someone imposing on you. Stereotypical gender roles always interest you and, in your mind, connect to issues that most other people would never consider related.


You are particularly accepting of other people and have a special talent for seeing people’s true selves instinctively. It takes time for you to trust your gut instinct about people because even you don’t believe that someone could be so right about another person’s nature so quickly. This intuitive sense about what people are thinking is your special talent. You may think it is available to everyone and that others just ignore it, but in truth others could never develop the skill to the level which comes naturally to you.


To you everything happens on a personal level. Your friends come to you for advice because they know that you’ll love them for who they are and put yourself in their shoes to look at the world. Your advice, although varied in delivery, usually boils down to “be true to yourself” and “listen to your heart.” You are also an excellent confidant because things told to you virtually never return to anyone through the grapevine.


You focus more on nurturing other’s self esteem than any other type. As a result of this naturally caring nature, people often turn to you for moral support. You exude this quality so strongly that even strangers will sometimes spontaneously begin confiding their deepest secrets in you.


You are by far the most talented of all types at reading nonverbal cues. In your admirable attempts to convey a message diplomatically, those who aren't sensitive to inflection, tone, insinuations or body language sometimes simply do not get your message because they only receive the verbal half of what you said.


In the same way that you're the best at reading nonverbal cues, you're also the best at sending them. When you speak they miss the nonverbal half of your message, then they speak and transmit twice the message (verbal + nonverbal) which often gives away more than they intended but is sometimes carelessly inaccurate since they don’t send nonverbal cues as well as you do. When you're tempted to assign bias based on someone’s tone or other nonverbal cues it is wise to have them restate what they said and see if ignoring the careless, unintentional nonverbal half of their message lets their true meaning through.


As a parent you are very supportive and start educating your child early according to your values. Your children know exactly where you stand and what is expected of them. You overflow with positivity when your child sticks to the program, and reflect any negative behavior directly on yourself and the quality of your parenting. Your focus is making sure that your child has a strong self-image and high self-esteem. More than other parents it is important for you to be friends with your children.


You are more philosophical than most and passionately discuss ethics and justice more than other types. Your life has meaning, your life is significant. It is when ethical issues come up in conversation that you most strongly sense that you are fundamentally different from other people. You become visually emotionally focused when these issues arise, while others easily laugh them off and switch topics to something trivial. To you, it seems that everyone should be passionate about ending racism, sexism and all the other –isms out there.


You go by the book and are suspicious of anyone suggesting that rules or laws should be ignored. You think constantly about improving laws, and see that at a major avenue for advancing social change because you see legislation and rule creation as the consensus opinion of the group working together. You want nothing more than for there to be peace and harmony in the world, and your actions clearly reflect that vision.


While you can instantly tell what’s on someone else’s mind, you can sometimes be confused yourself when it comes to the mixture of your own emotions. This, mixed with your reserved and complex nature can make it difficult for others to get to know you.


You have a special interest in figurative language. You are more strongly moved by poetry and literature than any other type. You are often interested in the finer points of writing and studying literature because you believe that how something is written or spoken is inextricably connected to its meaning.


In school you were an excellent student, the teacher’s pet. More than the satisfaction of learning, you enjoyed pleasing your instructors with your hard work and thoughtfulness and delighted in the personal praise they gave you in return. You got to know your instructors on a personal level and may have even kept in touch with certain of them after moving on to other classes.


You can “connect” with any individual person and practically read their mind, but you have a natural tendency to match your actions to the expectations you read from their mind and yearn for company that lets you truly, naturally be yourself. You struggle between letting yourself naturally match the sentiment of the group (which feels like putting on a façade) or letting your individuality shine, which may allow people to see how different you are.


Your life has meaning, your life is significant. You think all people should spend more time thinking about who they are and what their purpose in life is.

Insane In The Membrane

Broken People

I am a firm believer in the fact that nobody else can give you your self worth. They may be able to make you believe that your worthless if you give into them and their negativity but you alone are responsible for your happiness and wholeness. I have seen others as well as myself fall into the fallacy that another person can make you whole, give you worth, make you happy, make you complete, or help you feel better about yourself. Most people walk around with missing pieces but the problem is that they are always expecting someone else to put the pieces back together for them, to make sense of their puzzle. No one else can do that for you. No one else can give you your self worth, no one else can be everything that you need, want, or are missing in your life or your center. Only you can do that for yourself. Only you can find and fix the broken missing pieces that make you feel incomplete. Only you can give yourself worth and meaning. Asking anyone else or expecting anyone else to do this for you is only setting yourself and them up for failure. Nobody can fulfill the needs that you can't fill yourself. Nobody else can heal the wounds you know you have or the ones you haven't yet discovered. Sometimes faith and finding meaning in life can help you fill the gaps but sometimes it can't do it all and sometimes the gaps, the pain, are necessary. Pain makes you wiser, stronger, and feel happiness so much more. Pain and missing pieces give you depth. In order to be happy in any of your relationships you first must come to terms with the relationship with yourself. Take some time get to know your strength, weaknesses, and holes. Love yourself in all your flaws. Look for people that you enjoy, flaws and all and don't rely on relationships to fix you. Somethings can't be fixed, and that is okay. And being able to say that your broken and some parts are irreparable but your okay and you love yourself flaws and all is the first step to happiness.