...
"I'm waiting," I reveal after many, long painful moments of silence.
"What do you mean?," you ask, and even though the silence was painful, you sound relieved to hear me finally talk. You know talking about my emotions, the chaos in my head, scares me. I do not talk about the chaos frequently.
You shift closer to me, so close I can feel you breathing on me. Distracted by your close proximity, I think about how you are so beautiful I just want to kiss you. But that scares me too.
"I...," my voices cracks and I feel angry and embarrassed. Embarrassed because we both know how hard this is for me.
Starting again, I remember how strong I am trying to be, "I... I am waiting. I am waiting for you to leave me. Yes, my love, we are so happy right now. At least to me we are. I love you with everything I have. But since I love you with everything I have, I have felt the most vulnerable I have ever felt. The most anxious. The most exposed. If you leave you are taking everything with you." Slowly I look down at my hands, the hands that love tracing your skin. The hands that crave only one thing: to touch you. Following my gaze you grab my hand and kiss it tenderly. I close my eyes and without thinking a painful expression crosses my face. I do not deserve his love. I'm torn between believing he actually loves me and the bad thoughts in my head who whisper otherwise.
"There's only so much you can take before you grow frustrated with my anxiety and insecurities," I whisper. I fear the day you realize you can do better than me. I think that's it: I believe you can do better than me. Simple as that.
"I am not going to randomly leave you," you reassure me. At this point I know I should stop talking, I regret saying what I previously revealed. "Okay," I reply, but I know I will never believe you.
I'm just waiting. Waiting for you to leave me.
The more I love you, the stronger my anxiety.
I never want you to leave
my heart has already been through enough
I'm just trying to be careful.