Fear bubbles to the surface as it stops at every place in my body on it’s way to the final destination: my voice. My optimistic personality gets quickly lost in my dreams as they turn to nightmares and truth makes itself clear.
I don’t think he meant for this to happen.
But it did.
Fear and love are mixed up inside our relationship.
Just like so many other things. Pleasure and pain. Gratefulness and anger. Perfection and pride.
Sometimes my heart skips a couple beats when I am faced with how much life you have lived and how short our days are. You have 4 years until you reach the average life expectancy of a male in the United States.
I want to solve the lump in my throat and acid in my stomach. I want joy, not anger, to be the first emotion we experience together. I want you to be able to love me the way I’ve been crying for you to since I was a baby drowned out in the laundry room.
Instead I have compassion for the fact that this will never happen. And, I have fear that you will never be able to receive the love I have to give you.
I am afraid of you and I am afraid for you.
Pain short-circuits my system, over you, but I still love you fiercely.