I’ve spent so much of my life being scared. I’ve spent so much of my life being nervous, being worried, being so many things that get me nowhere, other than tired.
I overthink. I worry. I focus on one thing, one tiny thing, and can’t get it out of my head. Stupid things at times… alright, most of the time.
I really am my own worst enemy.
I always chalked it up to “This is who I am.”
But is it?
When I’m alone in the woods, in silence muffled by snow that glitters in the moonlight, where there is no one, and even my own breathing can break the silence… I am not worried. I am not nervous. I am not scared of anything. I am free.
How many things in my life have I missed out on because I was scared? How many times have I held back my feelings, my own voice because I was scared? How many times did I miss out on a chance, even if it didn’t amount to anything other than what could have been a great night, because I was scared?
But alone with no attachments? I can see the silhouette of what I want, of who I am, somewhere in there, a free bird, soaring. Even if I’m flying solo, at least I’m flying free.
I’m terrified of loving someone who doesn’t love me. I don’t know how to shake that fear and I don’t know how not to feel so damaged because of it.
It’s not that it was a bad relationship. We had very happy moments and memories. And at the end of the day, he was a genuinely good guy. But it wasn’t equal. He was my moon and stars and I poured everything into that relationship. And it wasn’t returned. I saw a future, and he saw none.
How do you get past that fear? Yes, I know, there comes risk with love. But how do you actually get past that fear and accept the risk? Accept that yes, I do want love. And it’s not that I even love him now. I’m not there yet. But will I ever be?
I see myself falling, I see a future… but I’ve been here before, and the result broke my heart. And instead, that fleeing feeling, that run away, run into the woods and be free and end it before you get hurt, before you get too attached.
Though I say that, and I am. I am attached. I wouldn’t have cried leaving. I wouldn’t feel this longing, this desire to be back in his arms, in his bed. He makes me laugh. And when we’re sitting next to each other, and I smile, and it plays out like a love-sick Taylor Swift song. Isn’t this easy? It is easy.
My drunk self told him I think I might love him. His sober self told me the next day to be patient if he’s not there yet. Reasonable. Right? Maybe, I don’t know. Red flag? Probably not. I mean. I don’t feel that way yet either. Right? Right?
Always stuck in my head. Get out, you late night thoughts.
Loading comments...