Afraid

When I see a picture of him, I can still feel as if I can reach out and brush my hand along his jaw, feeling the intoxicating blend of stubble and skin. The thought stops me in my path, and makes me feel like my heart will beat out of my chest, making it hard to breathe. When I get that first deep breath in, I feel the love rekindle, burn brighter.

I feel that I'm not good enough for him sometimes, and I act out because of that, almost like trying to get him to see the worst in me. But he never does. And he never gives up on me, never gives in to that little dark voice in the back of my head screaming, "Don't you see what you're going to be getting into?! Don't you get it? Dump me! Free me! I'm not worth your time, your money, your investment, your love!!! I'm not worth it!" And it's in moments like that, the moments of calm after the fights and squabbles, that I want to give into that dark voice and make things worse, and make him hate me so that he can see me for who I really am: Broken. A record that once had held a fantastic song upon it that I can't hear anymore.

I can't figure out why I do the things that I do. I don't know why I act out. I don't know why I snap and snarl. Is it insecurity? Is it trying to get him to hate me so that I can please my mother and marry a man that she approves of? Is it the agony of having half a continent between us that is the reason behind why I can't reach out and run my hand over his cheek, weaving my fingers through his as we walk beside each other, kissing him, feeling his wonderful embrace?

Or is it just this feeling of not being worthy enough?

Is it because I want to do so much, but I can't for the life of me figure out how to weave together both the dreams I have and my relationship with this amazing man? I can't see that yet, and that confuses me and hurts me because to marry him is a dream that I really want to see happen. I want to see so much happen in my life, but I don't know where to start. I'm overwhelmed by so much, unable to sit back and comprehend everything that is coming up before my eyes.

And then I'm brought to wondering if I'm allowed to have so many wants. I haven't had much in my life, and I cling to things, to behaviors, to so much ... because I'm afraid that if I let go, I'm never going to be able to catch them again. I want freedom, and yet I'm afraid to open my wings. I'm reluctant to unfurl them completely because I've had them tucked so tightly to my back that they're stiff and sore. I don't want the wings of freedom to get bruised, hurt, broken ... I don't want to leave the ground because I'm comfortable here. I don't want to go too high because I'm afraid that I'll fall.

I'm afraid to love a man with my whole heart. I'm afraid to open my eyes to see flaws. I'm afraid to really take a stand against my mother. I'm afraid of so many things and I just cover it all up under cotton bandages, knitted wool sweatshirts, and a Decepticon baseball cap.

But I'm not afraid to cry.

So for now ... I cry. Because writing these truths and feelings help me open my wings a little more.