Don't run from this. That's what I have to keep telling myself. Don't run from pretty much the best thing you got going for you.
Besides the pure stupidity of it, they don't deserve that. They don't fucking deserve me to freak out and decide they don't care about me when they have done nothing but care about me, love me for fuck's sake, give me a fucking home.
I wish I wasn't like this. I wish I didn't have these fucking defense mechanisms. I am so painfully aware of them, it's ridiculous really. Ugh, maybe subconciously I think it's okay because it's what I've always done. It's all I know.
I don't know how to really believe that they love me, or how to trust them. It's stupid. Sometimes I think I'm learning but suddenly I'm three steps back, having to talk myself into coming home. I don't even know why... which equally pisses me off and scares me.
Ooh, 'scares'. Don't catch me using that word too often. I'm too hardcore to let shit scare me... fucking stupid. More like; I haven't cared about anything enough to let it scare me in a while... except myself. And...yeah. But I guess they're connected. I learnt years ago to shut myself off rather than face feeling anything; if you try hard enough you can ignore bruises, stop the screaming from ringing in your ears (all those not good enoughs, every one of them your fault).
Okay, this is taking a turn into somewhere else now. Snap out of it.
The thing is, he looked at me and sure, it was shock and probably a little pity, but only because he cares. So, that's good, right? It's not like I should have expected no reaction, as much as he knows my mother he doesn't know the half of it. I shouldn't have even said that - I mean, he's got to see her all the time too, but he asked, and I didn't feel like lying.
It's not like he's treated me any differently though he might just be a little more protective, a little more understanding when I shy away from her, go quiet when she comes around like she always does. I don't like being 'handled', but I've got to understand that being taken care of is by no means the same thing and in no way bad or wrong.
Get so used to not feeling safe, that when it comes along it actually scares me because it's not until you have something that you've got something to lose. So I have this huge desire to get out because... I don't know, like, it'll hurt less if it's my decision. I seriously don't even know which pisses me off. I'm not going to, not this time. I am not throwing this away.
One more habit to break, I guess.