I love writing for others. It's the only time I allow myself to be vulnerable, the only time I'm being completely honest-with myself and with the way I feel.

It's funny because when I'm starting to think about writing for myself I am at a loss for words, I couldn't come up with something, not even a single word.

I wish somebody told me things I've written for somebody:

That I miss you.
That I still think of you every single day.
That I wish you were here.
That life isn't the same without you.

Maybe then I'd feel like I'm wanted.
Like I'm needed.

© euphemia

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