raw

I thought, perhaps my heart is so huge it has taken me nearly 37 years to notice I don't know my way around it... well, I am plunged into it now. There are no words to describe this rawness, this wounded bird. All my thoughts turn to ofic oqiruoylf qocinfdfn ;owcemr'utiqut when I try to articulate anything past this guttural howl.

petty griping

I'm in love and I'm scared. To say I have trust issues is an understatement, but then, surprisingly I manage to be rather trusting most of the time. My worst defense (offense?), it seems, is to pull away and become distant. That, or I push those I want closest to me further and further out of reach. This compulsion is maddening.

My sense is that I can let go of that fear, that need for distance, if I can relax, which is made easier if my beloved assists me in that regard, but that seems like a recipe for failure (not because he can't or won't or hasn't, but because it calls on the external to accomplish work I need to do internally). The trouble, of course, is that I am profoundly sad and often hurting most of the time, which means I find it very difficult to truly relax.

I know how to lounge comfortably, or blow off some steam, but relaxation-- truly letting go and dissolving all my tensions --feels damn near impossible. And because of this I am afraid I am driving away the man I love. I see it happening and yet I don't really know how to stop it.