Nothing I write now will be the truth, or maybe it is a truth I am too afraid to look at. Like a mirror, revealing all your scars and wounds, even though you see all of you, you can’t help but focus on all your flaws. They aren’t actually all that, but you are fixating on what you’d look like if they weren’t there. You are so fixated on perfection that imperfection makes your perfection unattainable.
I am often clear on where to go, then I start the journey and realise maybe this isn’t where I want to be. Maybe I want to keep floating, never belonging, but finding abode when I want to rest from wandering.
I am afraid of looking into your eyes and realising you are not the one for me. I think what will hurt me is the realisation that I am replaceable for you, what if you aren’t for me? I know I am not supposed to worry about that because it is something I can’t control, but in trying to control the things I can, one of which is falling in love with you, can I? I’d never have met you to even find myself in this dilemma.
Why am I so scared to be less, even when I don’t want anyone to be more for me? I am afraid that at some point I will stop fascinating you, even when I can see clearly, the picture of how I am actually all the right fit for you. I don’t know how to stop focusing on all the things that could go wrong so that I may be able to appreciate all the right things about the picture before me.
Even if you promised that you’d always be enchanted by me, I am too afraid that’s a lie because I can almost guarantee that you cannot prevent your weakness.
Only forever could make me believe, and that’s a journey I am not even willing to undertake. It is like displeasure in pleasure and vice. Wanting to experience but never willing to try.
I don’t know why it is easier to believe the bad than accept the good. I can see everything working between us, but I am more focused on a time when it won’t. I am not sure if my worrying is because I can visualise you leaving unscathed or because I don’t believe that you’d be willing to stay to fix it. I think the real issue is, I am worried that I wouldn’t know until we get there, and I don’t know if I’d be able to walk away without self-sabotaging if I ever faced this.
It is much easier to float than commit. I have selfishly loved myself, and it is now a burden. One that wouldn’t release me to love and share with another. Consumed by the fear of what-ifs and never succumbing to the now.
Sighs…
How and where do I go from here? Is the cure in the person or in me? What will it take to fix this, or is there a puzzle I am missing?
Xoxo,
Dcconnoisseur.
Connoisseur of Memories 