Author: Erin Cockfield

When you work so hard to be what everyone else needs, it's easy to lose track of yourself.

You get caught up in being a friend, girlfriend, mentor, student, employee, etc. and neglect your own needs.

Being there for all those people feels good, so you think that's what life is all about: making everyone else happy, making their lives better with no regard for your own.

But one day, you meet someone who makes you see that you need somebody too. You realize that maybe they came into your life not because they needed you, but because you needed them. 

For the first time in your life, you start to rely on someone else instead of giving them all you have. The guilt of it overwhelms you; it just doesn't feel right.

Such an extreme amount of guilt stems from the fact that this person needs nothing from you, you have nothing to offer, yet they keep letting you into their life.

Maybe you even feel you’re not good enough. For the random hook up, or that guy who needs a self-esteem boost, sure, but for an honest, legitimate guy? There's no way.

Because you’ve never been what they’ve wanted or needed. You want to end up with the type of guy who worships you and appreciates your ambitions, but you just don't see it happening.

You spent so much time making sure the wrong guys felt good about themselves that you forgot to prepare yourself for the guy who will actually deserve everything you have to offer. 

The worst part is, he gets where you’re coming from and understands why you're the way you are. He realizes why you’re abrasive and why you won’t take anything from anybody.

Let's be honest, you've got an incredible amount of baggage – too much for him to work through. But he's all you ever wanted.

All those times when you thought you weren’t good enough? It turns out you were too good for each of those guys. But this time, you might actually not be good enough.

What do you want? The question is so big and encompasses so many areas of life. What do I want?

At 27-years-old, here’s what I want.

I want to be happy.

I want a career that I love, where I thrive, where I change lives for the better.

I want good friends. Friends who care, all the time. Friends who drop everything when you need them most. Friends who stick around for a lifetime.

I want love that is reciprocated. I want to be wanted, needed, desired. I want someone to feel for me what I so long to feel for someone else. I want to be someone’s first choice, every time. I want to be the first good morning and the last good night. I want to be the favorite hello and the hardest goodbye.

I want children. I want to see the look on his face when I tell him that we’re going to be parents. I long to watch a baby grow inside me and to feel that love no one can explain when that child is placed on my chest for the first time.

I want a fairytale. I want a fairytale life and a fairytale love. At 27, I still believe fairytales exists. At 27, I will expect nothing less.

The hard part comes when I continue to see all of my friends finding their fairytale. I can’t help but wonder where mine is. When will my fairytale show up?

I like you. And I’m pretty sure you like me too. It’s obvious. We’re obvious. I think everyone sees it. And then you tell me you don’t want to hurt me. You know my history and you respect me too much to do anything that would hurt me like that. And I appreciate that.

But what you don’t understand, what you don’t see, is my wall. All those jerks you know about have helped me build a wall the size of The Great Wall of China. And before anyone as the possibility of hurting me, they have to break through that wall. No offense dear, but you’re not even close.

I appreciate you and where your heart is. But I want you to know that I see you. And what I think you mean by “I don’t want to hurt you” is really “I don’t want you to hurt me.” This could be big. This could be good. This could be it. And I think you’re scared to admit that. You haven’t been busted and bruised like I have. Your wall isn’t The Great Wall of China. And I scare you.

I want you to know that I couldn’t hurt you… I could never hurt you. Because I feel it too. And this really could be it.

Halloween as a freshman in college was going to be amazing. It was chilly that night as we all ventured out to Frat Row to see what we could find. I was new to the group, having only met your friend group from high school in August, but I trusted you. And I trusted them. I don’t remember too much of what we all did together or where we went, but I remember you. When you grabbed my hand as we were walking, I let you. When you tried to kiss me later, I kissed you back. When you asked me not to leave your room when everyone else was headed to bed, I stayed. But when you kept kissing me, I pulled back. When you grabbed my hand forcefully, I resisted. When you touched me, I flinched. When I tried to leave, you laughed in my face. So I let you. Because I wanted…something.

I wanted friends. I wanted to be accepted. I wanted college to be the best time of my life.

I didn’t realize the people who were not a part of that group were better friends than yours would ever be to anyone. Including you.

By the time I finally talked you into letting me leave that night, I thought the damage was done. The next few weeks though? Those would prove to be more difficult. When you told the group that I forced myself on you. When you told them that you begged me to leave. When they believed you. When I was alienated in my own dorm building. When I felt like I had lost all my friends at a college that I came to completely alone.

For years, I thought what happened that night was my fault. That my hatred for Halloween was because I just wanted to be accepted. It took me years to realize that my hatred for Halloween is entirely your fault. And it always will be. Yes, one day I may come to enjoy Halloween again. I may even quit dreading its arrival. But what you forced me to do that night will forever be your fault and your doing.

The things you don’t realize when you’re young and naïve, you come to realize as you grow up and mature. Those “friends” really suck. And I’m pretty sure they still do. The real friends I made freshman year are more important and are still a part of my life years later. They pick me up when I fall down and never laugh in my face when I fail or when I’m scared.

I think that is the best thing that could have happened. Because, yeah, it sucked. What you did. And you were just the first on a long list of really shitty boys in my life. But look at the strong woman I am because of how you screwed me over. You thought you could ruin me. And in that, you were wrong.

You know who you are. You’re the one fielding that 3am phone call. Again. Because some guy decided to be stupid. Again. And you know when you answer, it’ll be me on the other end. In tears. Again.

I haven’t thanked you in so long. Or, I thank you every second of every day, because without you, I’d be a blubbering mess walking home alone. Either way, please know how much I adore you; how much I adore our friendship. Please understand that I really don’t know where I would be without you in my life answering those 3am phone calls. Everyone else has left, because that’s what people do. But you? You’ve stayed. And that is something for which I will forever be indebted to you.