To You
My insecurities are coming out. I can feel it and see it happening in the way I move and I currently can't stop it.
I don't believe you right now.
I don't believe that you find me attractive. I don't believe that you actually love me or that you're mistaking yourself. I don't believe any of it.
I expect to wake up one day and the sentiments and kind words stop.
I expect you to become annoyed, distant, angry with me over everything, secretive, histrionic, manipulative, unfair, judgmental. An antisocial mastermind that chose me to fuck with and laugh at.
I'm trying to challenge myself and shape this as a sign that I'm allowing greater vulnerability and risk with you rather than assuming that I'm picking up on something that I need to listen to.
I don't want to put it on you. I want to be honest about my thinking and where I'm coming from, although I've learned to control it much more and manage the obsessive thoughts. Yet, I feel like there isn't a point-- I'll sound nuts or dramatic as it's coming out of my mouth. It feels very real on the inside, though. I still feel very much like a six year old without the capacity to process all of it.
I want to believe you. In spite of how much dishonesty, cheating, and selfishness I've seen and been a part of, I want to believe you now, five years from now, twenty years from now.
You’ll leave.
I want to believe that you can and will still look at me the way that I will with you. I was capable of it, even in my worst relationships. I want to believe it. Right now, it's hard. I'm afraid it'll push you away so that I don't discover how you may hurt me on my own. Know that everything that I say, feel, and do is 100% genuine-- not done as a bid to keep you close or seek assurances and reinforcement. It's all real.
You won't see me, anymore. You’ll think I lied to you.
I wake up with that mental cancer, every day. It just grew louder when I knew you were the real thing.
I don't know what to do about it at the moment. I may in a bit. It’ll fall back. It will dissipate, again.
The more you know, the more you’ll be okay with leaving.
I’m not who you think I am.
I’m not sure what to do with all of this right now. It’s been easier to hold myself in and make it all about other people.
It’s a matter of time. You’ll figure it out and so will your family. Please just end it.
I’m sorry. I’m trying.