I can see myself doing it again, refusing to believe that I am loved. In the face of everything that tells me otherwise I still refuse to believe it. Then I act on those beliefs, seeing disappointment and heartache down the road I look for any little sign that confirms my suspicions. Only recently have I come to realize that I fear love, in the pit of my stomach, it scares the living fuck out of me.
And that very thought fills me with panic. I wonder if I’ll ever let myself just be happy.
I have been so very lucky to meet someone who really does love me, ME, haha, and I find myself needling him to prove it over and over again. I can plainly see that he does but then the fear throws all of that evidence out the window and looks for more. And then throws THAT evidence out the window again. The poor guy is getting frustrated with it all because in his mind he’s wondering ‘wtf do I have to do to make you see?’
I will fight that fear with everything I have, even if I have to write on my arm to remind myself that I deserve to have somebody feel that way about me.