Why is it so hard to understand what I need right now? Why can't the 1 person who is supposed to know me the best the one person that is hurting me the most right now? I'm not asking you to fix me. I'm not looking to you for answers. I need comfort, I need softness, I need to look in your eyes and know that you love me no matter how crazy I might get.
Most days I feel like I'm drowning. It's hard to breathe, and see and think. I can barely make it through each day until I get home. Then when I get home, the thing I want more than anything is for you to look at me, see me struggling and give me a real hug. The hug you used to give me that communicated everything. The one that said, I'm sorry. The one that said, I love you. The one that said, I don't have words to tell you how I feel, but I'm here. The one that made me feel safe and anchored.
Lately when you hug me, I feel, "There I did my duty, let me get on to other things." When you ask me how I am without looking me in the eye I think that you want me to say fine so you don't have deal with the mess that I've become lately.
Yes, I know I'm a mess. I'm irrational, illogical, I cry at the drop of a hat, I read into every single nuance of every single word. I keep starting impossible conversations with you when you're trying to sleep. When you ask me to stop I just keep going. I am overly dramatic. I make hollow horrible threats. I know.
But you're not innocent in this mess either. You tell me to be honest and tell you what's wrong and what I'm thinking. Then you drop random bombshells on me about things you don't like about me. You don't like it when I tell you that I only do something because you want me to. You don't like it when I try to have conversations with you late at night. If I'm honest and share my paranoid thoughts with you, you get angry. Last week you told me that you couldn't see yourself putting up with this sort of behavior for the rest of your life.
I can't begin to put into words how crushed I was when you said that. We've both said hurtful things to each other before. But to have one of my worst fears put to voice. Before that day, Pots and Pans Niki was the only person who said you would leave me if I didn't pull it together. You said it, out loud, that makes it real.
So here we are today. I'm having an awful day. Such a bad day that I can't even suck it up and pretend. I have no game face to put on. So you ask me what's wrong. Sincerely. And I'm frozen. Do I tell you? Do I tell you all the thoughts I had today? Do I tell you that I can't breathe? Do I tell you that it took every ounce of willpower I had not to lay down on the floor and cry? Can I tell you that every second my brain isn't otherwise occupied I make contingency plans in my head for how I will handle it when you leave me? That I no longer know how to go about any day normally. That when I complete one task I have to stop and consciously think of what I should do next? That now my relationship with you is something I have to plan out and prepare for, when it used to be so natural?
You say that we'll get through this. That you love me and we'll make it through. But what if I don't? What if I'm broken beyond repair, and this is the new me? How much longer before you decide that you just don't love me enough to stick it out? How long before I forget that you said that? I miss you.
Most days I feel like I'm drowning. It's hard to breathe, and see and think. I can barely make it through each day until I get home. Then when I get home, the thing I want more than anything is for you to look at me, see me struggling and give me a real hug. The hug you used to give me that communicated everything. The one that said, I'm sorry. The one that said, I love you. The one that said, I don't have words to tell you how I feel, but I'm here. The one that made me feel safe and anchored.
Lately when you hug me, I feel, "There I did my duty, let me get on to other things." When you ask me how I am without looking me in the eye I think that you want me to say fine so you don't have deal with the mess that I've become lately.
Yes, I know I'm a mess. I'm irrational, illogical, I cry at the drop of a hat, I read into every single nuance of every single word. I keep starting impossible conversations with you when you're trying to sleep. When you ask me to stop I just keep going. I am overly dramatic. I make hollow horrible threats. I know.
But you're not innocent in this mess either. You tell me to be honest and tell you what's wrong and what I'm thinking. Then you drop random bombshells on me about things you don't like about me. You don't like it when I tell you that I only do something because you want me to. You don't like it when I try to have conversations with you late at night. If I'm honest and share my paranoid thoughts with you, you get angry. Last week you told me that you couldn't see yourself putting up with this sort of behavior for the rest of your life.
I can't begin to put into words how crushed I was when you said that. We've both said hurtful things to each other before. But to have one of my worst fears put to voice. Before that day, Pots and Pans Niki was the only person who said you would leave me if I didn't pull it together. You said it, out loud, that makes it real.
So here we are today. I'm having an awful day. Such a bad day that I can't even suck it up and pretend. I have no game face to put on. So you ask me what's wrong. Sincerely. And I'm frozen. Do I tell you? Do I tell you all the thoughts I had today? Do I tell you that I can't breathe? Do I tell you that it took every ounce of willpower I had not to lay down on the floor and cry? Can I tell you that every second my brain isn't otherwise occupied I make contingency plans in my head for how I will handle it when you leave me? That I no longer know how to go about any day normally. That when I complete one task I have to stop and consciously think of what I should do next? That now my relationship with you is something I have to plan out and prepare for, when it used to be so natural?
You say that we'll get through this. That you love me and we'll make it through. But what if I don't? What if I'm broken beyond repair, and this is the new me? How much longer before you decide that you just don't love me enough to stick it out? How long before I forget that you said that? I miss you.
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