Still searching

They say friendship is a safe place to be imperfect and still be deeply loved. But am I deeply loved — or just conveniently kept? They say silence speaks, but does anyone hear mine? Or are they just guessing, drawing lines between what I don’t say, never really knowing? Everyone’s trying to understand — but understanding isn’t guessing. Understanding is sitting beside me in the quiet without trying to fix it. I crave presence. Real, steady, undistracted presence. Not occasional replies. Not timed affections. But would you stay? Would you really stay? You don’t know my heart. And I don’t know yours. Is there anyone who truly understands me — the soft parts, the cracked ones, the wild hope? If the world misunderstands me, would you try to see me? If the world walks away, would you walk closer? Still searching for the one — the one who doesn’t disappear when it gets quiet. Please find me soon. I’m tired of getting attached to people who were never really there.