Sep 4, 2013

i read it and i feel the stone weighing down in my heart. i want to cry. i close the door. i let myself cry. after a while i walk up to the door to lock it, and i let myself cry harder. if you knocked on my door i would ignore you. if you came in to comfort me i'd push you out.

i cry because she is right.

it's who i am. she actually understands. (i hear footsteps. be quiet.)

i do need you. i have an emotional capacity as vast as the sea and it comes off too strong. i don't want to scare people away. i try to conceal it. i don't want to come across as a desperate dog, an obligation a duty a burden. but she exposes who i am. the inconvenient side of me. the one i admit to but that also scares me. i cry because it scares me. i don't want it.

how you are the air i breathe, what you mean to me, where will i go; i look back up at her words with the intent of reading the whole post through but at each phrase i catch my breath at how she's got it right again, how true, how i hate that it is true, and i lie back down on my bed and let the tears come yet again. takes me another five minutes to sit back up and read the next few words and it happens all over again.

i am weak, i am paper-thin, i am one of those weak young trees that needs to be tied to something in order to stand.

i unlock the door. maybe i want you to walk in and catch me with my tears and come sit here with an arm around me because this is who i am and i'm afraid of it but you know it already and it's okay.

vulnerability -

so complicated a thing. she understands it fully. she puts on paper exactly who i am. i hate it. i hate how it is so true i hate how pathetic i am. but she understands. but i don't want anybody to realise its magnitude like she did. especially not you. i'm afraid it'll scare you off.

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