It’s not that we don’t love you unconditionally. It’s not that we want to not trust you. It’s not that we don’t believe you. But we are programmed to overthink. To take things too seriously. Our hearts are so gentle and soft, that we overanalyze your every move.
All we do is hope and pray you won’t break our hearts. Because before you, everyone else did.
Before you, people gave us reasons to be suspicious. People gave us reasons not to trust them, and not to believe in their fake promises. You see, before you? We didn’t have real love.
But you’re real love. And we know that. But our anxiety unfortunately doesn’t.
We pick our scabs over and over again, analyzing the details, the conversations, the way you smiled or didn’t smile. We think and think some more about how much we are thinking. But it never stops.
Our brains are hurricanes of ‘what ifs’. Our minds are miles and miles of questions. Of unanswered messages. Of cancelations. Of suspicion. Of losing control.
We don’t know how to make it stop. Our love for you is strong and powerful. It is unwavering —until anxiety comes along. And anxiety has no guilt to what it does to us. Anxiety doesn’t give a shit.
You tell us you are going to a friends house and we smile and nod, but inside we are screaming, who, where and why? Inside, we are crying. We are weeping. Scared that maybe this time, you’ll truly leave.
You tell us you need space and our anxiety becomes a wildfire, itching and burning at our throats. We don’t understand why you have become distant. Or is it just in our heads?
We lose track on what’s real and what’s not. We suffer. By ourselves. In fear that if we speak the truth, that your love will wilt. We stay silent. Praying you won’t notice how we look on the inside. Hoping you won’t figure out all the skeletons in our closet and demons in our heads.
We just nod and smile. Not giving you any idea how we are truly feeling.
But maybe it’s better that way. For you not to know. For you not to worry. For you to not have another thing added to your already full plate.
We just can’t give you all of us yet. We can’t tell you our secret. Not yet. Not until we can fully trust you. Not until we are convinced that you won’t go. Not until we are certain, that you will never break our hearts.
Please don’t break my heart.