There and back again to somewhere different
Chaaaales,
You're likely the only one who will understand where there and here are; how I've moved myself thousands of paces to end up in the exact different place.
I went searching for Spring, Chaaales, and the scary thing is I think I've found it.
Over the last week, despite the festivities brought by birthdays and anniversaries, I had become withdrawn. More and more desperately unhappy with my surroundings, I threw a tantrum last night like a little girl. Hurling accusations of unhappiness, discontentment, and spite at Erik who has never exhibited a single ounce of that towards me. I was scared, I am scared, because he has lead me to the same pasture I left exactly a year ago.
I've tried so hard to find a different way than the one that lead me here years ago. Perhaps I have, but here I am in spite or despite my efforts.
I am terrified. It sounds incredibly cliche, but I don't think I've ever been so deeply scared of something as I am of loving Erik. I hold an absolute certainty that the moment I give up, give over, give in - with that sliver of weakness exposed - he will .... leave? not love me?
To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what will happen. And I don't know why I care so much. After all, they're just other people right? What's it matter so much that Daniel pulled the rug out from under me so many times that I feel responsible for him wanting to pull it in the first place?
Oh Chaales, I'm so afraid that this is just all the same nightmare. If it doesn't work out, you tell your mom to be prepared to hike out of my therapy room!
Well, I wanted this post to be a bit more profound, but I suppose there's just something shallow and grimy about the fear of love.
Jesus, when did I start watching Oprah.
Yours,
Ruuuubes
You're likely the only one who will understand where there and here are; how I've moved myself thousands of paces to end up in the exact different place.
I went searching for Spring, Chaaales, and the scary thing is I think I've found it.
Over the last week, despite the festivities brought by birthdays and anniversaries, I had become withdrawn. More and more desperately unhappy with my surroundings, I threw a tantrum last night like a little girl. Hurling accusations of unhappiness, discontentment, and spite at Erik who has never exhibited a single ounce of that towards me. I was scared, I am scared, because he has lead me to the same pasture I left exactly a year ago.
I've tried so hard to find a different way than the one that lead me here years ago. Perhaps I have, but here I am in spite or despite my efforts.
I am terrified. It sounds incredibly cliche, but I don't think I've ever been so deeply scared of something as I am of loving Erik. I hold an absolute certainty that the moment I give up, give over, give in - with that sliver of weakness exposed - he will .... leave? not love me?
To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what will happen. And I don't know why I care so much. After all, they're just other people right? What's it matter so much that Daniel pulled the rug out from under me so many times that I feel responsible for him wanting to pull it in the first place?
Oh Chaales, I'm so afraid that this is just all the same nightmare. If it doesn't work out, you tell your mom to be prepared to hike out of my therapy room!
Well, I wanted this post to be a bit more profound, but I suppose there's just something shallow and grimy about the fear of love.
Jesus, when did I start watching Oprah.
Yours,
Ruuuubes