All I Want Is For You To Let Me Love You
Trusting me enough to become emotionally vulnerable in our relationship is the greatest gift you could ever grant me.
By Amy Horton
You pause, and I know what’s coming. You’re holding back. I see it so clearly, though I can tell you imagine you’re behaving subtly. It seems that you don’t quite grasp how well I understand your deflections. It’s only because I have so much practice in avoidance myself.
All I want is for you to tell me everything — your hopes, your fears, your dreams and misgivings. I want intimacy that transcends all judgment and categorization. I’m not asking you to give up your individuality — no, entirely the opposite. I’m asking you to summon the courage to reveal yourself. I want to know you in the deepest way possible.
Don’t misunderstand me — I love our lightness, our shared laughter. You make me cackle with unexpected glee on a delightfully regular basis. It’s just that the joy burns more brightly if it is balanced with the rawness that inevitably lies somewhere underneath. Without the necessary depth, we can only fly so high.
Show me something more. Give me what I’ve always longed for and never quite achieved. Let me into your tissue, your bones, your dark matter. We must dissect each other lovingly and with care. It’s the only way to evolve, the only way to keep our unique spark alive.
Please, don’t become defensive when I implore you to reach more deeply, to search with greater intensity. I’m not implying that who you are isn’t good enough — but there’s more there that you are simply not revealing to me. Of course it’s scary. Of course it takes great strength to let another human being see all your weird and ugly and different. I hope you know that I’ll only love you more for every layer you unfold for me.
Trusting me enough to become emotionally vulnerable in our relationship is the greatest gift you could ever grant me.
It’s difficult for me to release expectations and accept the fact that you will only give me as much as you decide, and that perhaps you will never open up to me in the way I hope. I am trying to demonstrate to you that you have a safe space with me, always. You might not believe me, no matter how repeatedly I reinforce that fact for you. Whether or not you’re willing to meet me in the middle, to show up and put in the work — that’s up to you.
I will admit to you that I’m afraid. It’s terrifying to finally find someone I feel a true connection with after all these years of trial and error, but know that our chemistry may not adequately hold us together. I fear that instead of leaning in, you’ll refuse me and disappear into yourself. All you’ve done so far is pleasantly surprise me when I dread the worst. Don’t stop now.
All I want is for you to let me love you. Not in a superficial way, but in each and every delicate manner possible. It’s okay if that means temporary discomfort. I have no fear of digging in. What makes me quiver is the thought of losing you because we never reached a level that I know we are capable of finding. Never achieving that keen, precious thread of understanding beyond anything we’ve found before. I beg you, let me in.