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I want love. I crave it like air, like something essential to my existence. I want to be held, to be known, to be seen for who I truly am. But the moment someone reaches for me, the moment affection wraps around me like a warm embrace-| panic. It feels too much, too close, too dangerous.
I tell myself I don't deserve it. That I'm too much, too broken, fragile. That loving me is like loving a storm, beautiful from a distance but devastating up close. I sabotage what I want most-because deep down, I am terrified. Terrified that if he sees the real me, he will leave.
But then... what if he does? What if, after everything, he finally gives up? The thought alone is unbearable.
The idea of him walking away, of him deciding that I'm not worth the fight—it makes my chest tighten, my breath hitch. I don't want to be abandoned. I don't want to be left behind like a fading memory.
So here I am, caught between the urge to run and the fear of being alone. I want to let go, to end this before I destroy him, before I destroy myself. But I also want to beg him to stay, to promise he won't leave, no matter how hard I push.
I love him. And I hate myself for it.
What am I supposed to do?
It feels like trying to hold water in my hands-no matter how tightly I grip, it always slips through my fingers.
I feel everything too deeply. When I love, I don't just care—l ache. My emotions crash over me like waves, unpredictable and relentless. One moment, I am floating, safe in the warmth of his affection. The next, I am drowning, convinced he will leave, convinced he already has.
It whispers lies into my ear, twisting his words, his actions, his silences into signs of rejection. If he doesn't text back fast enough, my heart tightens-| knew it. He's losing interest. If he seems distracted, I spiral-he's bored of me, he wants someone else.
And the fear, the unbearable fear of abandonment, takes control.
If i could. I push him away before he can confirm my worst fear. I shut down, I lash out, I tell him to leave-because if I'm the one who ends it, at least it's on my terms. But the moment I see him pull back, the moment | feel the distance I created, panic sets in. I want to take it back, to reach for him, to beg him not to go.
It's a never-ending war inside me. I want love, but I fear it. I crave connection, but I sabotage it. I feel guilty-God, I feel guilty-because I know my love isn't easy. I know I am exhausting, unpredictable, overwhelming. I convince myself that he deserves better, that I should walk away before I ruin him like I ruin everything else.
But then, the thought of him actually leaving? It terrifies me. It makes my chest tighten and my hands shake. Because without him, who am I? Without his presence, his reassurance, his love-what's left of me?
I wish I could turn it off. I wish I could love without fear, without self-destruction. But this is my reality.
This is what it means to love with a mind that doesn't trust itself.
And I don't know if I can survive losing him.
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