Fear

I’m scared. The funny thing is I never used to be scared. I used to be a bit naive and maybe a little foolish. A small part of me used to believe that not all men were the same, that there were actually some pretty good guys out there. I never used to be insecure, I never needed to use make up to feel beautiful. It’s funny how one person could change how you see yourself entirely. Because of you I’m afraid to love but most of all I’m afraid to love myself. I’m starting to get to know myself again and doing the things I used to love. I’m becoming strong again but I’m not quite there. There are days when I feel 100% great but then we step into your side of town and I’m constantly looking over my shoulder. So afraid that I am lingering on the edge of a nervous breakdown. The simple thought of you sometimes causes me to almost have an anxiety attack. I try to hide it because I’m just as tired of talking about you as my loved ones.

The saddest part is that I met someone. A guy who is willing to get to know me and love me. He didn’t run when I accidentally broke down and spilled the story of our tragic love affair. I know more about him in the month that we’ve been talking than I’ve known about you in all four years of having you in my life. He makes me laugh and he gets my jokes. But I can’t let go of this fear in the pit of my stomach. I’m so scared he’ll realize I’m not worth it and walk away. I’m scared that he’ll end up loving me but most of all I’m terrified that I’ll end up loving him. Because what if he turns out to be like you?

I don’t know how to stop overthinking it because that’s what I do nowadays. I think of everything that could go wrong. I’m stuck between thinking that I’m capable of being loved, that my past doesn’t define me and thinking that I’m worthless and disposable. It’s an never ending battle that I seem to be losing…

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