I’m used to loneliness.
I’m used to disappointment, sadness, and indifference. I have mastered the silent art of feeling sorry for myself. I’m used to the belief that I am unloveable and that I will remain unloveable.
And that’s fine. I’ve learned to accept my unlikability. The concept of being loved, taken care of, and secure is what’s foreign to me.
That’s why I have to apologize to you because that’s exactly what you are – safe.
I apologize for sometimes asking you numerous times if you’re annoyed at me. I know it must be irritating. After 20+ years of internalizing being unwanted, I am unable to distinguish between someone feeling secretly displeased or unobviously neutral.
I apologize for sometimes worrying at the possibility you will become bored with me. I don’t tell you this out loud, but I’m sorry for thinking it anyway.
I apologize for ever doubting your intentions.
I’m used to chaos, desolation, and abandonment that I find myself itching to run from stability because to me being unloved is normal, being despised is normal, being overlooked is normal. Peace is scary, vulnerability is scary, actual normalcy is scary, but now I’m realizing I deserve to be happy, I deserve to be okay, I deserve to be with you. So for my moments of weakness – darling, I am sorry.
You were the first to adore me as if it were the most natural thing to do.
You are the only one who has loved me intentionally.
You recognized the soft in me when everyone else only saw the rough.
Thank you for valuing me at my worst and respecting me at my best.
You are my best friend and partner. You encourage me to be a better person and make me see parts of myself I never thought existed before being loved by you.
You chose me over and over again, even in instances when I wouldn’t have chosen myself.
I still get the urge to run away, sometimes, but now I know I don’t always have to respond to trauma. And I may still get lonely even though you’re around, but now I know – this self-fabricated misery is just an over-dramatization of my addiction to disaster. My entire life I was caught in that illusion.
I’d rather live sober in this boring, safe reality with you.