Sinking.

It's funny how even now, as an 18 year old university student, I can't seem to define what I think and believe a family should be. All of my thoughts seem to point to an unrealistic dream that others possess.
Something unattainable.
Something more.

And looking back, maybe I have not tried my best. Maybe my efforts are slim and now that I'm older, they're only getting worse. Maybe. And yet, maybe it's not me. Maybe it's who I am with. Who I'm left to call my family. What is family? Friendship? I've seen many of my friends family. I've seen them support one another, laugh with one another, share in joy together. It seems like years since I've done that.
I've watched my friends families invite me in. Help me to feel as one of their own and yet that stupid, uncalled for feeling inside of me remains. I should already BE someone's 'own'. I should already have a place so encouraging and uplifting to call home. I should know what a home feels like. I shouldn't always want to leave. To run away. To start again. To be alone.
But I do.
I look forward to the day when I can leave all that I have tried so hard to break free from.
When I can be myself. As I am. And be valued for that.
When people will ask me how I am. Not ignore me.
When conversations will consist of more than 'hey' and 'how was your day'
When words will matter. When they will be chosen.
When people will sit down with me and simply talk. Seek conversation. Value my words.
When people will encourage me. When they will just get over themselves and learn to be selfless.
When a father will know what it means to be strong. To be a support.
Not someone who seems to only be existing.
Not someone who is not considered a father.
When my existence will not be seen as a burden. But a joy.
When my efforts will be noticed.
When my joy will be understood and cherished.
When family will become a true unit of people, seeking to encourage one another, in all, or whatever they choose to do.






And even in the depths of this darkness
I see such light.
I feel, without even seeing, the encouraging words and joy of a Father.
Of one who cares. Who pursues me. Who loves me.
Such joy.
That is the only thing that makes this suffering bearable.
That helps me to continue on.
That pushes me towards the incredible goal that is heaven.
Pure Joy.