The Shift, The Break, The Fall

I'm awake.  Grit in my eyes and gravel in my throat. Emptiness in my heart and black clouds shroud my mind. I am here, but not here.

I don't know how long I can keep this up for.  Making excuses, trying to be understanding, trying to  fathom the reasons, coming up with nothing but more loneliness.

I'm so tired.  I just want to feel wanted again, and no one can ask to be loved.

It could be me, though I don't see how.  I'm the same as I have been, except that now I feel lost, alone, vulnerable.  Bitterly self-conscious. I'm being pulled in so many directions that I feel myself begin to fray. My mind unraveling. Devolving into fear; a dark place.

This in itself changes me.  I seek reassurance. I seek validation. I seek knowledge and proof.  I ask questions, but receive no answers. I lay my soul bare and it's either not noticed, or is of no consequence.

I haven't given up yet. But I'm close.

Giving up would be the break. If I stop trying, then it'll be done. I feel like I'm keeping it all together by sheer willpower, strength of determination, and a bit of luck.

If I give up then I think it would be all emptiness and a total breakdown of communication. Even now we don't talk. Not in a deep, soul-fulfilling way. We talk about the mundane things. I have opened up a few times, but there's little reaction. I feel like my feelings are a burden.

I see myself as a small, awkward thing, devoid of grace and beauty.  Sometimes I think he needs more. Sometimes I think I need more.

I miss him.  I miss the man I knew. The man who loved me.

It's hard knowing that he is here... And I was asked not to be there.

We all need space sometimes though.  We need to get on and unpack, clean, sleep, change things around... We need to do our own things sometimes, and I understand that. Doesn't make it any easier though.  Even I sometimes feel that I need to go back to my flat with my own things, and do what I need to do... That said... He'd be home, and it shouldn't be hard to do those things with me there. (but it's his call at the end of the day. And I have no choice but to respect it, swallow it, deal with it, even if I don't understand it)

I'll try to think less and feel less. I'll try to regain some kind of control over my emotions. I'll try to loosen my grip.  I'll try to be better, and with it should come a new-found self-respect.

He is lucky to have me.  It's true that no one has ever said those words to me but him, but I've always known that I'm different in so many ways.

I just thought that no one had seen my potential.  I still don't feel understood. I feel like I'm not seen sometimes.

I feel lost.  That's the word I keep coming back to. Lost. Alone. Scared.

Scared of myself, of my feelings, of my mind and what is in it, my flawed thinking process.
I'm scared of him sometimes. Trying to keep my head above water. Trying to match his way of thinking. Trying to adapt to him. I'm not very good at it.
I'm scared of pushing him away if I stop feeling.
I'm scared of pushing him away if I don't.

I shouldn't be afraid though.  I should get along and do what I need to do. I can't let my world revolve around him no matter how much I want it to, or how it just happened.

I'll try to be stronger. I'll try not to be this weak version of myself. I'll be tougher, stand up straight, and find the old fire that I once held.

I won't be the soft, pliable, needy, dewy-eyed vulnerable child I've become. I'll go back to being strong, if I can.