I'm afraid of love...or letting someone love me. Guys. I actually don't know how to let someone love me. I keep people at a distance so they won't get close enough to see the real me and leave me. But I've finally caved and let someone in and I love this person more than I thought I could ever love anyone. And that scares me to death. So I'm working on it. But I constantly worry that this person will see/feel something and not want me, so every once in a while I put up a defense out of insecurity. This person assures me that they love me for me and everything that goes along with me but I still get insecure every now and then. I know this person truly loves me but I jump to conclusions and overanalyze. I'm so afraid I'm going to subconsciously fuck things up. I think that no one could ever truly love me because I'm so flawed. This person thinks I'm perfect though, I just can't see what he sees. I think this stems from a lack of a great relationship between my father and I. He never told me I was beautiful and rarely tells me that he
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No one is perfect. Our flaws are what make us unique. But I feel the same way you do. I might be on the verge of something great, but I'm afraid my fear will mess things up.
i kind of know what you mean. whenever i sense that a guy likes me i start doing things to make them not like me anymore, even though i know doing that only makes me a bitch and i shouldn't deserve anyone if that's how i'm going to act. i think that if both of you love each other though, like you say you do, then it will work. it has to. I think that no one could ever truly love me because I'm so flawed. -- i think that everyone tends to have "harsh" feelings like that about themselves... "how could he/she even like me when i'm so _____?" but just remember that this guy loves you. loves you for who you are. i wouldn't want to see something like that fall apart.
here's a poem i wroteshadowvioletSeptember 8 2004, 04:43:20 UTC
"fifteen minutes," she said, "and then it will be over." then she could go back to her life, then she could make it a memory. she didn't know what it was, but she knew it wasn't something of her own design. "who am i," she thought, "and why does my body keep on moving when my mind is so far gone?" boiling under a transparent skin, the crumbling chasm lies dormant. bloated and underwhelmed is the reality, the ugliness. struggling to numb, to survive. to keep her head above the water of a word, one small word, that murders. "fifteen minutes," she said, and then it will begin.
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"and then it will be over."
then she could go back to her life,
then she could make it a memory.
she didn't know what it was,
but she knew
it wasn't something of her own
design.
"who am i," she thought,
"and why
does my body keep on moving
when my mind is so far gone?"
boiling under a transparent skin,
the crumbling chasm lies dormant.
bloated and underwhelmed
is the reality,
the ugliness. struggling to
numb, to survive.
to keep her head above the water
of a word, one small word,
that murders.
"fifteen minutes," she said,
and then it will begin.
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waiting for someone to notice
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