Love. Loss. Pain. Love.

This is something I wrote two years ago, on December 11th. I think I've hidden it long enough.

--

It's everywhere. Like a dark, suffocating blanket that snuffs out anything warm, it seeks you out, and there's nowhere to run to.

Fear of animals. Fear of insects. Fear of loss. Fear of pain. Fear of death. Fear of love.

Fear of love. Fear of loss. Fear of pain.

Love.

Loss.

Pain.

There's a gap that loss leaves that no one, nothing, can fill. That's what I thought, that's what they all told me. You fill that emptiness. You did what no one else could in the last 3 years. You made me feel again. How do I react to that?

It's suffocating me. Get it off me. It's dark. You're reaching out, you want to hold me, comfort me. Or do you?

Do you just want to hold me for this moment? Do you want to comfort me now? Will you forget later, when this moment passes? Will you leave?

I can't. I want that warmth. I want to be held, want you to hold me. I can't.

I'm sorry. If you're hurt, know that I feel it too. If you're not, I'm making the right choice, denying myself the only thing I've wanted all this while. I know I'm being stupid. Yet somehow...somehow, this all makes sense to me now. Don't hate me. I love you. I'm scared. I want nothing more than to be in your arms now. In the darkness. I want to forget.

I can't be with him. I can never love him.

--

No, I'm not feeling extremely emotional. I just found it. Jeez...