slow life
I feel the need to explain. I give power to that sentence, as if it's a revelation that should stick out and dictate my train of thought. If I don't have the right words or a proper explanation, I feel anxious. Afraid, even. Maybe the thought I'd least like to be true becomes the one that envelopes me. I'm afraid that if I can't solve this or that, she'll leave me. I'm afraid my insecurity stirs in her a realization that I am weak or immature. I envision a world in which she leaves me because of it. In her perceived superiority. My deeper fear: that she'd be right to. That I inhibit her growth, and the proper thing to do is take a step in a different direction. Away from me. Because I am stagnant, unmotivated, and afraid of the world. I know that I should face my fears, and she encourages me to. I tell her I will but when will I? I can't accept her love and care if I feel like I don't deserve it. I find myself putting her down because I am insecu...