wise&blue

I have become chronically afraid of being abandoned. It is this tight chested, overwhelming anxiety at times, and at other times it is hardly noticeable, except in the way that I cling a little too tightly, or try a little too hard. Perhaps I love a little too much, at which point it ceases to be love and turns into something more diabolical. Something grossly and monstrously selfish. A kind of deep seeded, instinctual selfishness. I can feel it boil over mechanically, like clockwork when things begin to fall apart. My reptilian brain, with it’s catlike reflexes, launches into this primordial and ever so predictable dance. Swaying with the music, it glides across the room, and then stomps its way back. Cyclical. Torturous. Isolating. Lonely. I used to ask what I had become, but now I have begun to ask myself what I have always been. Why has it taken me so long to notice how crippled I am? I’m a leper in sheep’s clothing.

Have I become chronically afraid of being abandoned, or am I just now realizing that I have always been chronically afraid of being abandoned? My legs are weak, my heart is numb, my mind is always racing. I’m laying on the kitchen floor in a sobbing mess at the age of 8. There is a photograph of his face torn to shreds on the ground. I am laying in my bed in a sobbing mess at age 21. There is a picture that I painted for you on my desk. Is this the mantra of my life? This egocentric, prideful, helplessness? What have I refused to become? 

Who am I abandoning because of my inability to look outside myself? Oh, God, what a monster I have become. I am not the lover I have idealized myself to be. But as I feel your fingers unwrap themselves from mine, I hold onto hope that all is not lost. That this is just a Winter. There are seasons of Death, Rebirth, Abundance, Trial, Heartbreak, Joy, Sorrow, and everything in between. But let me never live to see the day of the season of Apathy. I will never abandon you.