Every time I yelled at you in a restaurant or doubted that you wanted me, I was unable to give you an explanation. Every time I told you to find someone else or to leave while you still could, your questions went unanswered.
I still can’t explain everything, because I don’t fully understand it myself. I wish that it wasn’t all so painfully complicated. I wish that I didn’t always feel like a failure.
Instead, I’ve tried to learn more about myself so that you can know what it’s like to be with me. My insecurities and fears aren’t entirely who I am, but they play a huge part in what I do and what I say. To the people I love, you should know these parts if you truly want to know me.
I carry scars and wounds so deeply imbedded that they may never heal. Though they don’t hurt me in the same way, they are permanent examples of the places I’ve been and the pain I’ve come from.
I have suffered loss in capacities most people couldn’t even imagine. My loss comes from the total annihilation of a part of my life I will never get back. This is why loss seems so total.
I feel my emotions deeply and intensely. They may seem like overreactions, but they’re the only way I can make any sense of what I’m experiencing. Know that I am doing my best to make them as digestible as possible.
I have a heart that has been shattered and rebuilt over and over. It is resilient, but fragile. Because of its fragility, I am very careful of who I give it to.
I struggle to differentiate the realities of my situations. There will be moments when I can’t tell if it’s my mistrust that is pushing you away or if you’ve really decided to walk away.
I will shut down. I will run into the darkest parts of my self and hide in the corners. There are no lights in these corners — even I have difficulty finding my way out. Just know that I’ll come out in my own time. I don’t expect you to follow me, waiting outside is more than enough.
I will test you in the hopes that you will fail me. I will ask questions that I already know the answers to. I will overanalyze and contextualize every single move we both make until my brain is mentally exhausted.
I will light fires in the hopes you will leave and let me burn. If I’m the one with the matches, you won’t have the chance to hurt me. I’m not good at calling places home — it’s easier to burn them down than get comfortable.
I would rather fall forward on my own sword than allow you to fight for me. For someone who has fought their own battles for so long, it’s nearly impossible to hand that struggle over to someone else.
You may think that I am a crazy you can’t cure. You may think that I am damaged goods on a nonreturnable shelf.
This may be the moment where you close your computer and write me off as impossible. But if you have been patient enough to read all this and can find some glimmer of understanding, then from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
If you are a person that wants to know me despite the chaos I fight, then maybe I can give you my sword and my matches.