Why not me

I was twelve when I first learned jealousy not of toys, but of love. I watched fathers hold small hands, walk their daughters to school, love them loudly, without fear of loss. And I wondered, quietly, I want to feel the same. I grew older. They said love would come not from a father now, but from a man who would choose me. But time passed, and love passed too. Again. And again. I searched my reflection for the flaw they must have seen. Asked God in the dark, What is wrong with me? Did I forget to deserve love? Everyone else seemed chosen. Held. Claimed. Why not me? Years carried the question, heavy in my chest. No father’s love. No lover’s promise. Only silence where warmth should have lived. And yet when the world turned its back, You did not. When I felt unloved, You stayed. When I broke, You healed me. When I had no one, You held me. I learned this truth slowly: Human love may leave, but Yours does not. So even if I was never chosen by them, I was never abandoned by You. And for that, I am still here. Still believing. Still loved. So tonight, I place my longing at Your feet, wrapped in Christmas light and faith. If love comes, I will receive it. If it doesn’t, I still have You. And that is my peace.