To love our parents for all they provide, and our friends for all the comfort and vibes. To love our partners for that intimate connection, and to love our beds which needs no explanation. However, do we love ourselves?

Trying your hardest not to feel, as if your emotions are something far from real. Accepting reality like its a curse, all those positive thoughts disperse. We struggle and then we succeed, we face loss and then a series of grief. We rely on loved ones for some comfort or relief, but we don't deserve the love we receive. I guess thats just the eternal tragedy.

To love your body, mind, and soul without being narcissistic. To be able to do what you want, while still being altruistic. To have knowledge and feelings of empowerment, without the slightest hint of conceitedness.

Obviously perfection doesn't exist, so why do we crave and believe in it?

Putting a facade on for the world, as if our well being depended on it.

We are all flawed in our own ways. We have our faults, but we also have our gains. Yet we constantly choose to focus on our faults, as if imperfection will be the death of us all.

We crave the love and attention from others, as if self worth is deduced by no other.

Gathering likes and comments to fill a void. Trying to gather love to fix whats clearly been destroyed.

We can be surrounded by millions of adoring fans, but can that possibly cure our lonely timespan?

We believe in the need of attention from others.

We think that we need acceptance from our lovers.

We want to believe that this is enough, when in actuality it isn’t.

Others can't tell you the worthiness of your life. Others can't experience your memories or your lives. We can't exchange our hurt or pain. We can't live in someone else's brain. We can't succeed for another. We can't fail for anyone other.

So until we learn to accept ourselves, we can never accept the love of anyone else.