Hard conversations aren’t easy. Not for me. Not when I have to be the one expressing their feelings. I can sit behind a computer and write for hours with ease over what broke me, but when it comes to verbalizing it, I choke. I don’t know if you knew that at first, but now you do.
I’ve been told I’m not an easy person to be around after a while because I tend to shut people out. My therapist told me I developed a fear of compassion. I am terrified of letting someone show me love in fear of just having it stripped away. My anxiety is high and my health is so shaky that sometimes it consumes me. I’ve been told I’m sick and broken. I’ve had it stapled in my mind that I’m just not the girl anybody wants to have a relationship with, especially now. So I did everything in my power to be strong around you. If I showed my pain, I would reassure you I would handle it. I conditioned myself to hide my tears and say everything was fine no matter what hurt me.
But 2020 hasn’t been my year. After past wounds being cut open and losing my best friend, it was a matter of time before I broke in front of you. My insecurities started and continue to rise. I’d stay up late overthinking after I’d tell you I was going to bed. I’d spend nights wondering if I would get better, if I would ever feel whole. But I pushed those thoughts down deep and buried them; I never wanted to concern you with my worries like that. I should’ve been able to figure them out, but one night I broke down hard just from stress. I could barely catch my breath on the phone with you.
So, when you walked into my room and sat on my bed at two in the morning, I had no idea what to do. My face still swollen, voice shaky from crying. You just held me. I didn’t have to talk; I didn’t have to verbalize it. You knew. I found peace in that. In that moment, you became my safe place. You became my home.
You were and continue to be everything I need.
You have been so patient with me throughout this. You know sometimes the pain just washes over me and I drown in it. I could just be cleaning my room and suddenly break down. And you’d let me break down but remind me I’m strong. You remind me time and time again that this pain won’t last, that I’m bigger than it. You give me hope.
I think it’s the warmth you bring when you look at me. My heart swells with every look or touch. Maybe it was the way you held me. It felt like there was nobody else besides me and you. I could think about how I actually felt; I was able to just let the sadness out.
Maybe it’s because when I look at you, I’m home.