About Me

When it never comes out right...maybe I can say it better if I write.

You came into my life at the end.

The end of myself.

I had reached my uttermost sadness.

I had given up on all.

But here you are.

And I'm sure it doesn't feel like a convenient time for you.

To talk to someone reeling from internal strife when all you want to be is happy and free.

I honestly don't even know what that looks like in my life, but I too crave it.

There's freedom in acceptance, in being enough.

Focused on you seeing it instead of me being it.

Contemplating the what-ifs instead of showing you more of me.

But I guess that's it, that's the true problem...

One, it takes a minute to realize all of this and unfortunately, it happens during time together, because...

Two, you can't be prepared for new, for unknown, for uncharted spaces, no matter what you do.

Three, all of the aloneness and feelings of loneliness in my singleness have left me with a side effect... 

I don't know... how not to worry. 

I don't know how to be me with you. 

I don't know how to change my mood or thoughts for you even if I change the subject.

And frankly, I am worried, worried about how you perceive me. 

It's on my mind when you speak to me.

Silly as it may seem, something within me still asks if I'm enough for you, and I worry and I wonder...

Then I worry and I wonder...

And empathy makes me feel. 

Feel you, feel friends, family...

but like a two-edged sword, sometimes it stabs me to keep me feeling, to make sure I don't forget.

And it's what I'm good at even though it bothers me like it bothers you. 

I don't know how to change it. 

This is me...

bubbly and loving, caring and worrying, singing and fussing, praying and cursing.

I self-sabotage sometimes to keep people from knowing it all.

To keep the questions and strange looks at bay.

To keep the long, frustrated sighs away.

To protect my heart from the rejection I see coming towards me.

And I don't know if you can handle this. 

I don't know if you can handle this reality, this unadulterated truth.

It's a lot to take in, a lot on my side of the table.

But this stuff...this stuff takes risk...takes confidence...takes you being sure about me.

Author's Note

Taking a chance on love...or the possibility of it anyway!

Reviews

[Chris]

The reality about our worrying about the little things is that we really do.

[Isimbabi]

This is solid. You already know I connect with this. "sometimes it stabs me to keep me feeling," Really resonates. Empathy is a necessity but sometimes the thought that we would do better without it crosses the mind and then when we try to rationalise we worry and wonder. It's a vicious circle.
I admire the raw honesty in this. It's great!