My sentiments exactly

Read this and it pertained to me so well that I had to repost it. 

"And so it is that I’ve come to the conclusion that no one can complete you, and nor should anyone have to. Maybe we’re not meant to be complete, or maybe we already are. What do I know? Maybe completeness just stunts us from growing. Or if there is such a thing as completeness, then we should be able to use all sorts of different things to plug the holes inside us, and maybe we can learn to complete ourselves. What I’m saying is that for the first time, I want to fill in the Kat holes with Kat stuff, because when I think of someone else’s stuff in all my internal nooks and crannies, it starts to feel kind of invasive.

That’s not to say that I don’t want to love and be loved; just to say that it’s no longer a question of “You complete me.” What I need now, which is so different to what I needed ten, five, or even three years ago, is not filling, but a use for my fullness. I want someone that will push against the wall inside me where I’ve spent all my time repairing the spidery cracks spreading across the surface. And when the destructive veins behind to reemerge, I want someone who will stand beneath me, holding the ladder I’m climbing to reach the blemishes, handing me the tools I need to smooth out the puckering in the paint as I go.

I don’t want anyone to complete me anymore, regardless of whether I feel complete or not. All I want is to be a girl standing in front of a boy, eyes full of tears, professing my love, and with ultimate resolve say, “You extend me.”