Anxty Scribbles Pt.4 (Final)

I don’t think you see it, the side of me that can never understand, where every time you hesitate it’s proof that all my doubts were right. I don’t know how to go slow where everything is questions and I never get answers. I don’t know how to feel ok when I can only see the reason for you holding back as uncertainty, and I don’t blame people for their hesitation but it will always mean I doubt anyone will ever truly want all that I am. I don’t know if I can spend every day wondering why you don’t want to call me yours or why you seem to recoil at the idea of me calling you mine. I have always said I’d be honest and when I really look at it all this hesitation seems to be doing is building a wall around me and brick by brick I lose sight of what I saw when I first looked at you and I feel like I’m clawing at this wall desperate to hold onto the best thing that's walked into my life in so long but then I stop and think I may as well leave it there to protect myself because I’m so scared of facing the possibility that it might all fall to shit. I see myself so much as something people can only take so much of, so when you said you needed to take time I was ok with it but the longer it goes on, the more I feel like it’s just you waiting for something better and you can turn blue saying that’s not the case but my past will always make me wary of people's intentions. I am not the kind of person, when I am myself, that will ever stop someone I care from doing what they love, but I can’t be myself when every moment is a question and every hesitation is answers I don't want to hear. The thing is, you are worth waiting for, but this isn’t me waiting for you to be ready, this is me giving you everything I am and just hoping that someday you will find that it’s good enough. I know there is a thrill of it all being closed doors and hiding but that is losing its spark very quickly when I can’t hold your hand in public and be proud of you openly because I have to fear who will see and how people will react. I don’t need to run headfirst into things but I can’t act how we do behind closed doors and just turn it off because people might see when we walk outside. I’m sorry, I know you’re happy with how it is because it’s the perfect balance of getting what you want from life without risking permanence so you’re free to wander off when you need too; but I need to do this right for me. I need someone to want me just as much, I need someone to be without a doubt, I need to feel safe and to not have to question everything I do when someone else is nearby. I need to not turn slowly more and more cold and ruin a good thing with my fear. And sorry this is written poorly but it was hard for me to admit, but I think we need to take a step back until you’re ready to move on fully because while I don’t blame your need for time, I’ve spent years being ready and I can’t jump off this cliff and not be caught.

It is so hard to function with this irrationality, this thing inside that I can’t stop or change or throw away. This little fragment of me that made me cry when I started to hang up my washing, determined to not let everything fall apart again but I can’t see the keys through my tears properly. All that started this was the thought that you weren’t going to be here tonight, that I wouldn't hold you and fucking hell it sounds like you’ve died but you’re just an hour away working like every other day. I am so happy that soon I will share a house with you, so happy that I already share life with you, but so, so terribly scared that it will all be taken away and I am so sorry that this irrational fear makes it so much harder to just live casually. I can’t use word to explain this feeling, even I can’t make sense of it, I feel so stupid but the tears still fall anyway. I know in ten minutes I’ll be fine but I also know I will spend every hour trying to pretend like I didn’t wish you would just turn up. You are literally a drug to me, you leave and withdrawals kick in, I can function if only I know you will return at night to keep me warm. Some days this doesn’t happen and I’m perfectly ok, today isn’t one of them. So i wrote this, to try and help us both understand what the fuck it is that I turn into when you walk out the door and you take something important with you.

You hold power over me, you don’t mean to I know, you didn’t even sign up for it; at least not in a contract that was your own language. I spoke in subtle intensity, disguised in acceptable intrigue and unrelatable instability. You hold power over me and I don't think you want to. You could crush me by simply walking away and this exoskeleton I have honed from past mistakes is no match for the weight that would press on me no matter how much I try and convince myself this time it will be different, this time I could be strong. I have been crushed too many times to ignore when I start to crack along the edges I could not iron flat. I am as weak as the first day I realised I was no more than a petal spreading perfume in a clenched palm, I’ve just painted each lesson on my skin so each time I am less desirable. I figure the more I denote a monster the less of them I will encounter.

But you are different, not a monster yourself and yet possibly afraid that you might add decorations to this mask, your hesitations coating calcium to elongate horns I only wear to keep me from getting too close again.

I am a single soldier, fighting with unconventional weapons against an enemy that bares me no ill will for a territory I have no right to claim and neither will aid a retreat or form a treaty. And Both are the same.