Sometimes it only takes a very small, even inconsequential event to shatter this fragile joke of an existence that I call my life. The counselor in training that surprise surprise, needs a fucking counselor. How I'm feeling is something that I'm not even sure I can explain, or that I want to, but the feelings that are beginning to boil up within me are quite dangerous, and unfortunately the path of the destruction is infinite, putting all those I cherish in the crosshairs of a rifle that they don't even know exists to begin with. The more I type the less I make sense, the less I make sense the more I worry, and the more I worry the worse this is going to get.
This is what I do. No matter the circumstances, I end up exactly here. Torn between the fact that I love (him), and the fact that it's just not enough. For me? For him? For...ever? I don't know. The feeling is the same though, the same as it was in the past, and just as inconvenient. Has he finally lost my attention, as I feared he would from day one, or am I just being dramatic? Is there truly something wrong here or am I creating this... need for something more?
I love him. I can't even sleep without him next to me. I love the way that he caresses my arm while we're sleeping and drags me closer to him. He nuzzles me. I didn't even know what that word meant until he came into my life. He laughs at my jokes and calls me on my bullshit. He's perfect. In a way that I never will be. Because as much as I love this man, as much as I want to spend the rest of my life with something deep inside of me has already decided that he will not be that guy. That he can't be.
So am I running because the psych(ot)ic in me knows that I'll eventually get hurt? Am I running to save myself from whatever heartache I will meet in the future? Or am I running to save him from... this?
I've never been more scared or felt more alone in my life.
To describe what is going on inside of me is not only frightening but ill advised. It's like someone is choking me, pushing on my chest in such a threatening way that my immediate response is to push back... hard and quick so whoever is there will be caught off guard and unaware of my retaliation. My mind wanders to find someone to listen, someone that will understand, but t(he)y doesn't care. I'm not a cheater; I'm not a liar; I wouldn't dare. And who am I trying to convince? The pull to escape figuratively, turns physical, and the need just intensifies. Where does a girl go when everyone has given up on her, and the only one that still cares doesn't have a clue who you are, what you're feeling, or how crazy this is about to get?
How can he love me if I haven't even let him get to know me?
And this is why I have yet to find real love, intense, ever-lasting no questions asked love. I just want to be safe, and it's hard to admit but the only arms that I want around me right now are the ones that I know will not hurt me, because I don't have to care. He can't hurt me if I don't care.
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