“So what if it hurts me? So what if I break down? … I don’t care about all the pain in front of me, I’m just trying to be happy..”
I try and live carefree. But that self doubt creeps back in, to ruin my happiness. Those fleeting moments of late when I feel like everything is okay, that I’ve come to terms with things; something, a small ‘something’ comes along and knocks it down.
I want some more stability. I want some reassurance.
Can you give me some, please?
Compliments take me by surprise. They light a fire inside of my chest that I can’t put out. It hurts. Odd, yes? They make me blush. They make my shy (Me? Shy? Whaaaat?!) and they cause me to laugh. I find it ridiculous that someone would say nice things about me. I could say ten things about myself that aren’t. But I know me, and no one else does. That is my fault. I am hesitate to open up and let someone in. I am scared of being vulnerable with someone. I am waiting for a strong person to come along and keep me held tight in their arms when everything fall down and I have to start from scratch again. When the happiness is gone and its dark and miserable.
I desperately don’t want to be wrong about you. I want you to show me who you are. I know you are a strong motherfucker. Your flaws are testament to that. I adore you because you come as you are. I have always aspired to be like that, want to do that now because of everything. I want you to stay. I want you. You you you.
I feel this pressure to talk about my past and my condition with you. But why?
I get in bed after spending a night with you and contemplate the words I should have said, the words I wanted to say. The ones I’m glad I didn’t say. Because lately, I am hesitant. I am apprehensive to share my past with you. I don’t want you to see or know the ‘sick Lou’ of the months that have passed when we were just two people in the world. I want our connection to be based on the present. Why would I want to open my mouth and ruin that in a instant? This is my hesitation.
I’m glad I’ve said nothing. But I am tortured by it too.
If I can’t accept my fate, how do I expect you to?