What I Would Tell Them

If I Weren’t Afraid.

A collection of thoughts, addressed to a collection of people in my life:

I don’t like how your presence swallows me whole.

Sometimes I find you so beautiful that it makes me alarmingly insecure.

I chose you every single time. You never chose me.

It hurts less to lose you than it does to almost have you.

Your smile makes me forget where I am.

There are moments where I am incredulous over how selfish you are.

Your explosive aura dulls me into a muted version of myself.

I can’t remember the last time things were truly good between us.

I loved you once. It was a long time ago.

We are both cowards.

It is infuriating how you wreak havoc at every turn, and still try to justify your actions.

If you don’t want me now, I don’t think you ever will.

It is hard for me to be happy for you when your actions devastate everything around me.

You do not deserve me. You never did.

I’m trying to decide now whether I hate you or not.

But I am aching for you to kiss me again.

How I wish you had loved me as much as I loved you.

I am tired of seeing you in every waking moment.

How dare you make me feel too much, and not enough, all at once.

I’m sorry I get angry at you. I’m sorry I yell.

I need all of you or none of you.

Do not touch me. I will dissolve under your fingers.