The Truth Is I’m Brave But I’m Still Afraid Of Loving You

I’m afraid to love you, but I’ll love you with everything that I have. I’ll give so much of myself I’ll probably forget who I am. I’ll give it graciously and freely until there’s nothing left. You’ll give back I’m sure, but you won’t be able to keep up. I’m afraid to love you because I don’t want to need you. I’m afraid to love you because I know you’re so worth it, and what if I’m not? Afraid to love you because it will just happen, I can feel it already and I won’t have a choice.

I’m not afraid to love you. I know who I am and I’m ready to share that. I’ve spent so much time alone that I often crave the quiet hums of my own wandering thoughts. I crave strength that comes from independence. I know you won’t find another out there like me. You’d search for me in all the faces, hearts, and souls that you’d meet. I’m not afraid to love you because I have so much love to give that there’s no way you could deplete all of it. I’m not afraid to love you because I don’t need to love you. My love is a state of being.

I’m always swinging between giving you everything because I love meaningful relationships and giving you nothing, because if you leave, what if I’m not everything that I was when I met you?

If you leave or if I leave, all I will do is think about you. I’ll trace over every detail of what we had. I’ll learn what I can from it. I’ll cry. I will be angry. I’ll miss you. I will compare you to every face, heart, and soul that I meet. I will try to run to you in all our favorite places. For a while, my days will be spent in remembrance.

If you leave or if I leave, I’ll forget you. You know, like when you catch a smell of something delicious in the haze of the wind? It lasts for a bittersweet second and then it’s gone. The memories would fade off like that. The memories of you and us, just swooshing to the wayside.

It’s sad to admit that this brings me comfort. It brings me comfort because it gives me courage when I’m afraid to love you. If you were ever to hurt me, I know I wouldn’t have to live with the pain of it all for too long. I could eventually handle it. Not because time heals. Not because I’ve soul searched. Not because I’ve met someone else. Because I lost the memories of you. It’s sad to admit that this breaks my heart at the same time it’s comforting me. When I rid myself of the pain of it all, I’m missing out on the beauty of it all as well. I can’t have one without the other, can I?

Call it cold? Call it calculated? Call it whatever you want. Sometimes, I’m a walking contradiction. Sometimes, it makes for a wasted life. When those people and the memories they’re attached to are gone? So are massive parts of what I’ve lived.

Then, I remember. My subconscious made that decision for me. I’ll sacrifice the beauty of it all to refrain from the pain. Call me a coward? I am. Tell me I’m missing out? I’m not. I’m laying next to someone right now, as I write this. Living in the moment. Loving them with everything that I have. Even though I’m afraid to and even though I’m not, all at the same time. Loving them in comfort, because I know if I have to – if they make me – I can forget them. I’ll sit in the pain of it all for awhile at first. Remembering. Missing. Feeling. Learning. Then it’ll sweep in and through like the haze of the wind. Consigned oblivion.

But, ooh. What if they stay? What if I stay? Well, I haven’t ventured that far yet.