It’s been 6 years now that you’ve been putting up with my shit. 6 years of you hanging in there with me. Of having my back…through the worst of times.
And trust me…there have been a multitude of bad times.
I’ve suggested, thought, accused, implied…whatever word you want to insert…you of not caring more times than I can count.
It’s so easy to believe that. It’s so much easier to keep you at a distance. To convince myself that you don’t care. That I’m just nothing.
It’s easier to push you away.
The hard part is trusting you. It’s been 6 years…and I’m still fighting it. I still truly believe that you don’t care. I have to believe that.
You’re doing a job. I’m nothing. I’m no one. You’d rather anyone but me be here right now. You’re sick of my shit.
Keeping people at arms length has always kept me safer. It’s when you trust, when you’re open, when you’re vulnerable….that’s when you get hurt.
I’m not the best, I know that. My struggles are certainly not a secret.
But you’re still there. You still haven’t given up on me. At so many points alone the way…you could haven given up on me. But you haven’t.
I would never admit this out loud, but knowing that you’re there means a lot to me.
You’re asking me to trust you…to be vulnerable. To allow my brain to go to the scary places that I always run from.
The truth is that I want to. But the fear feels insurmountable. The fear of facing my own heavy shit…the fear of actually letting myself trust you in a way that’s only ever come back to hurt me…
I don’t want to put myself in a position to get hurt. But the irony is that by keeping you far away, I’m preventing myself from healing in any of those ways. Either way, it appears that I lose.
But I guess it’s always been easier to hurt myself than it would be for someone else to hurt me.
Honestly, I don’t know why you still try. I really don’t know why you even attempt to care. I know I’m not worth it, and I know I’m probably incredibly frustrating.
Even though I don’t know why you’re still here…thank you for not giving up on me yet, when I’ve given up on myself time and time again.
It’s a good thing one of us cares.