I am having a very hard time loving right now.
Loving you, loving her, loving everyone, anyone, but most of all loving me.
I am not sure why.
Perhaps I am angry. I know I feel alone. Every piece about you makes me want to yell. I am scared about the future, I am not ready to move on and yet it is also the only desire I seem to truly know.
Downtrodden, unsure, petrified, fears buried so deep from so many years kept inside they’ve become part of my bones. If I voice them, I am afraid I will snap because they’re what keeps me standing-are they not?
All of this has turned me into nothing, and a pot of anger filled words.
I do not know what else to say.
Do not come to try and rescue me. I spent the last two years so entirely wrapped in solitude I do not think I would even recognize your knock at the door.
Or perhaps I would, and the real truth is that I would not let you in.