Last night I was able to break down and cry. I haven't been able to in almost two years.
In a moment of desperation, I poured out my secrets to you. I have an innate need to nurture and to give, but no one to nurture or give. It's hard for me to have that someone, especially since I kind of do now. I'm easily attached and I'm holding back. Your kind words light up dark secret corners of my heart that have been long hidden and neglected. When you say I'm special and that I bring you joy, it hurts. It hurts good. These aren't words I'm used to and I'm starved for them. Your frank candor and bratty humor makes it easy for me to be friends with you. So when I hear about the crap other people are putting you through, it makes me feel a bit of primal anger. I want to become protective of you. But I won't let myself. I'm growing every moment I'm with you, you encourage me to speak my mind, and you help me order my thoughts and desires into words and actions. This isn't easy for me, especially saying them out loud. I've long been ashamed of my dark secrets and dirty desires. They're not allowed. I'm not allowed. My need for you or others, is not allowed. I can't. I can't need you, I can't need someone, I must be sufficient in taking care of myself. I must be able to be alone. Because I am alone.
So, it hurts. It hurts good. It hurts so good when you tell me that you need me too. But that you also need to be alone.
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