I was too afraid to let people enter my life; I’m afraid I was too fragile to be held — too shattered to be touched. I’m afraid to hurt people just because I’m hurt. I’m afraid to give them the same wounds I carry all along.
Back when I met new people, those who are too good for me, I wish they met the unbroken me, me before all this trauma, me before these wounds.
I wished that they would meet the version where I usually smile, where the sadness doesn’t take the kid in me. I wished that they could meet her, at least in another lifetime.
As much as I want to express love and to feel loved, I was too afraid that I might disappoint them. What if I do not love them enough? What if one day, my emotions get into me and permanently leave this life?
I’m scared.
I do not see myself for the next decades, I always think. That’s why I do not want them to enter, but that ended when I met you.
Your presence made me want to live. You made me forget how I wanted to end my life years ago. You changed everything. You made me want to live.
You made me want to work things out and heal my own wounds. You made me want to love myself; you made me want to take care of myself.
I wish you met me before life crumbled me through every piece, but I’m glad you came.
I wish you met me before all these wounds, but I’m glad you saw all these.
I’m glad you came; you made me want to live again.
