I have done nothing wrong. You’ve told me so. I know it in my heart. But the thing about trauma is it really doesn’t give a factual shit about who’s a good person trying their best. I keep trying to give you more than 50% because I thought I was such an open book but more and more I’m realizing that I never tell you the things I want to – that I’m hurting and I need you, that I had a fucking awful day and the only thing that helped was your voice.
The thing is, I don’t know how close is too close – not for you, but for me. I don’t know how much it’s ok to rely on another person before I’ve put myself in danger. And even though I know you’d never hurt me, I’m still in this place where being weak for a moment is so intolerable I get a little sick thinking about it. I want to share my real self with you, but I’m so scared there’s nothing worth sharing – that I’ll tell you I feel this stupid twisted sadness more often than not and it’ll be too much to take.
It’s so stupid because you’ve shared things with me no one else in the world knows, and you probably already know the places I go when my mind tries to drown me, but I still feel like I can’t talk to you about it. You of all people! If not you, the. WHO?
No one, I guess. This is not me blaming you at all – I blame me. I wish I could be brave enough to be my true self around you all the time, not just when I’m caught off guard. I just want the real me and the real you to have a life together and I feel like I’m the thing in the way. And how stupid is that? Things are going great! You probably don’t even think anything is the matter. I guess nothing *is*, not anything anyone can do anything about, anyway…
I just hope, one day, I can be brave enough to be as honest with you as you’ve been with me…and for you to not turn away because of it. I don’t know. It’s happened before. The first time I ever fell in love, in fact. I was “too fucking emo”. I’m an adult and I still haven’t gotten over how bad that stung and I’m so fucking angry about it because I want to have normal relationships and talk about it when I’m down, but I feel this stupid crippling shame about BEING DEPRESSED of all things.
Such a rant. What I’m saying is, I’m sorry I can’t be better for you. I’m saying it here because it sounds like an excuse to me, and I wholeheartedly believe you deserve better than that. I just want you to know that I’m trying. My God, I’m trying.