#root-original

I stopped. I stumbled. For a microsecond there - When I was writing “Who Loves Me..” I stumbled. Because,  it is difficult to believe in something that you did not believe for so long. I did not believe that anyone could love me. And deep down, all I really wanted was a chance to love someone.  I was wrong.  I spend too much time saying sorry because that is the default. That is the Side A of my cassette that has been stuck in a loop,  since I can remember thinking about the second voice  in my head. And sometime, I can unspool it. Set it correct.  Turn to Side B. And sometimes, I believe that’s where it will stay.  I was wrong.  It’s been 4 years now that I have tried to made sense of  the puzzle-box called “my brain”. And I have gotten better at it. I know when to not say the things that my head asks me to.  I know where to stand. And when to hold. And how to say things, that I am not sure are fully formed thoughts in my head.  I was wrong. 

I have unspooled and then collected myself together many times. So many times, that it feels un-natural at times to not unravel.  To have good days and believe in us. And not doubt. To think that I deserve the happiness that we have. In fleeting moments.  To know that I am not deliberately sabotaging us.  I was wrong.  It is torture to watch you ask me for something I don’t know.  “Tell me what is happening inside your head” you said. I am  good at words. Mostly. And this is when they decide to fail.  I have no idea how to describe what is in my head. Without killing  what is in my hand. You and me. A dream.  I was wrong. 

I thought I am over the hump. I have the sunset. And I will walk with you, to the bright side. I will be strong.  I will let you love me. And understand your asks. Be gentle. Be like someone you will want to love. But that is  where I stumbled. I am not to try. I am.  I was wrong.