Loving You Is Probably The Scariest Thing I’ve Ever Done

Alejandra Quiroz
Alejandra Quiroz

Out of all the self-destructive things I have done in my life, all the things I have gone through… You might be the most dangerous.

You’re the knife that has kissed the tender skin of my left wrist. You slice into my very being, bleeding me dry and permanently scarring me so that even years from now, I’ll be constantly reminded of the pain that I was in. But you’ve also become the scars that remind me to be stronger.

You’re the four-day binge
I went on that probably should have killed me. I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. You’re the prescription pills that kept me awake and the heart palpitations that I thought were going to be the end of me. You’re the exhaustion that strained my body and mind, sucking any remnant of life left, slowly willing me to fall asleep and never wake up.

You’re the car I drove too fast.
Speeding down winding roads. Feeling the thrill of the speed. Hoping to give into it’s momentum. Envisioning my life fly off that bridge. You’re the automatic reflexes that kick into gear, swerving me out of the way and bring me home safely.

You’re the late night, powdered line that I get a momentary high with.
While people around watch in a circle, I silently pray it’s the last line of breath I will ever take.

You’re the whiskey running through my veins.
The tequila that makes me lose all control. The vodka that tricks me to believe I can do anything. The gin that has me drowning in sorrow. You’re the rum that takes me back to paradise. You’re the wine that makes me forget all common sense. You’re the waiver in my step as I walk down the street, blinded by the buzz. You’re the bruises and cuts littering my limbs from the many times I tripped over your lies. And the hangover that leaves me sucked dry and wanting to die.

You’re the pills I take
looking for some sort of relief but in such a large quantity, you might just be my ultimate escape. You’re the numb and heavy weight feeling that courses through my body. You’re the sleep I want to fall into and never wake up.

You’re the stranger I slept with.
Looking for comfort, craving some sort of affection and attention if only just for the night. You’re the hesitation in stripping my barriers down and showing every inch of my vulnerable self to someone just in hopes they might see the real me. You’re the shame and guilt I have when I’ve felt naked and used, curled up on the bottom of my bed. You’re the hours that I want to erase so that I never have to feel that way again. You’re the relief that someone might just want me.

You’re the nightmares that haunt my dreams.
The sleep paralysis that sits on my chest, silencing me from the screams that I am begging to utter through sleeping lips. The night terrors that shake me awake, constantly reminding me that the nightmares in real life also exist when I sleep and are worse than anything I could imagine. But you’re also the warm, strong arm that pulls me in and reminds me that I’m wrapped up safely.

You’re the distance between my balcony ledge and the sidewalk below.
You’re the gamble that has me wondering if I were to fall, will I be caught? Or will I continue into a dark oblivion? You’re the ledge that holds me up high, staring out into this massive city filled with possibility and wonder; but you could also easily be the barrier between life and death.

You’re the man that I love with every breath in my body.
You’re the one that keeps me going. You’re the hope that I haven’t seen for a very long time. You’re the belief that it all works out for a reason. You’re the faith I have in God that shows me I will one day be happy. TC mark

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