my entire life has been filled with fear. fear of change, fear of not being accepted, fear of not being loved, fear of not being worthy of love.
that changed the moment i met her. i had left so many others out of fear of commitment, not because they weren’t special or wonderful in their own way, but because i was whole-heartedly terrified that i would let myself love them, and that they would leave.
i guess the ironies of my life aren’t lost on me. every time i let myself go, i end up without a shred of hope, heart or soul left in my wrecked body.
i’ve done this to others, after a month. i’ve known it isn’t working and let them know. i’ve been brutally honest. i’ve been empathetic. i’ve been alone.
but this time was so much more. it was a year of laughter and tears, joy, travel, talks of future and past, and acts of love. words mean nothing. the way someone looks at you says more than they every could.
but then, out of thin air, some small, vicious words come and tear your life apart, brick by brick. the gently, fragile foundation of trust and hope for future days is ripped from the earth and uprooted by a wind of change that was never mentioned, even though it was known to be on the way. no warning. no communication. no trust. no hope for the future. just desolation, and fear.
i am afraid. for me. for you. for the future. for my life. and if i don’t make it, i loved you until i couldn’t bear the mirror or the pain any longer. they both tease me with the future that almost, never was.