Pulling Away

There is only one thing that I know for sure. I push people away. I hate people getting too close. I hate it when you feel something for someone else. Loving scares me. I shake all night. I do not rest. I relive traumatic experiences. I scream. I cry. I shake. I sweat. I am restless. All night long. With no one to know. No one to see. I do not know what hurts more – loving or being unable to love. I still do not trust. I still ache.

I am not good at holding on. I let go. I let go of everything. Every few months, I decide that this is not me. I know that something is not right. I know that I have to get up and go. Just start again. Leave it all behind. I am only good for making messes. I wish I could care more. I wish there was more than just me. Love is gone from this body. It will come back. I will find it again, but not here. Not now. I am just not there yet.

I want to apologise to all the people that I have let go. To all those I did not fight for, because there was no fight left in me. I loved you, I really did. Maybe, I am selfish. The problem really is that I am a fighter, a survivor. I am trying to not let this world make me hate. The problem with that is I find hardly any room for love. Only love can drive out hate, though. That is why I am in such turmoil. Such despair.

I ache. I hate this pain. I want to put down this pain. It is worse than any pain I have had to endure. I am so close to giving up. I am strong, but I am so close to breaking. I do not trust people, because they are so quick to not trust you. To let you down. To not be there for you. Things change and then I will break. That is why I have to choose me and always choose me. I am not ready to break.