I have found my brain to be incredibly naive and it’s incredibly annoying.
Maybe it’s just my mouth that’s naive.
Part of my therapy is to let go of little things that I’ve said and how people have reacted to them. What was said has been said and I can’t go back and change my words. When I tell my therapist the subject matter, she often reminds me that those are little things that most people wouldn’t remember that I said. I do though and I ruminate over them and they drive me crazy.
It’s very harmful.
Right now, my mind is on a loop over a conversation we had. I remember being tired. I remember being upset. I don’t know why exactly or when this conversation took place. I just remember what was said and how you reacted and then how I reacted and how I felt and the recreation of this conversation in my head is all too real right now.
I just get scared of commitment. I’m not okay with taking risks. Risks are just that – they don’t make guarantees. That’s what scares me. The lack of not knowing.
I told you this. You didn’t really have a response.
I asked you where you saw this going. You said definitely through your Masters.
I guess I’m just going to have to be okay with that answer.
I should reword my previous statement. I’m not afraid of commitment. I’m afraid of committing to someone or something only to be let down.
I told you that.
I don’t know, maybe you feel the same way. I know one of your concerns from your previous relationships was that you came into them with too many and too high of expectations so when it fell apart, you did too. You want to protect yourself from that. I understand that.
Of course I want to tell you that I’m not like them because I’m not like them. Of course I want to explain how much you mean to me and how I love you more than you could possibly imagine. Of course I want to tell you how and why I think our relationship is different from the rest and why I’m okay with committing to you.
I think you know these things though.
I also hope I didn’t put too much pressure on you and me and this with that conversation. Especially with what followed.
Like I said, I don’t enjoy taking risks consciously on important things where the stakes are too damned high. Why would I commit myself to an at least 20-month long distance relationship without the guarantee of a promise?
I don’t know. The more and more I think about it the more naive I feel. I’ve just written and erased a full paragraph twice now.
I don’t know why I feel such a rush to get married. No. I don’t. It’s hard to explain.
It’s mostly a fear.
I fear that without that kind of commitment, I won’t feel safe knowing that you are really mine. Knowing that you won’t leave me.
I fear that without you even saying that even just maybe after those two years you spend doing your masters you could see us getting engaged sometime in the future, you won’t stay.
And I don’t think you fully understand how much of an influence you have over my life right now. I’m not saying that this is how it will always be and I’m also saying that I’m trying to change this because having this much dependency on one person is unsafe.
If you were to breakup with me, I would immediately hospitalize myself or make someone take me there. Either that, or I’d try to commit suicide right then and there. I know that for a fact.
That’s a lot of pressure to put on one person.
I’m not okay with having this kind of dependency on one person. So much of my health depends upon you and us. That’s really not okay with me. The stakes are too damned high.
It’s not necessarily that there’s so much I want to do before I die. I have a new sense of purpose, yes, but a lot of it revolves around you and where we go as people and how the world develops us as a couple and as individuals. I still don’t have a sense of personal purpose.
I have dreams for myself and things that I want to do, but these things are all things I want to do with you or with you in the picture somehow. Like, I want to travel the world… with you. I want to go to graduate school for psychology or music therapy… because of you. I want to really pursue music therapy and have a career… so I can feel worthy of being seen as your significant other. I want to have a family… because of you and with you.
This is absolutely crazy.
This is absolutely… crazy.
I want to have worth and have meaning and experience the world around me because of you.
Without you in the picture, I honestly don’t see much else. Plain and simple as that.
This is one reason why I was scared to get into a relationship when I have been battling depression. It’s why Sean and I broke up. I didn’t want to depend on him because he was fragile and I couldn’t trust him with that kind of responsibility and he didn’t want to deal with it anyway. I knew, though, that getting into a relationship when I’m so fragile myself was dangerous.
I’m grossly independent.
My dependency upon you is my greatest weakness I feel.
A part of me thinks that it’s okay to depend on you. A part of me knows it is necessary.
I just don’t think that depending upon you this much is necessary.
I knew it the minute you sat down in that blue chair with wooden armrests and legs that was surprisingly a recliner in my hospital room that you had no idea the effect you had upon me. The amount of control you had. The amount of control you still have.
It’s dangerous, it makes me feel uncomfortable, I don’t like it, but I don’t know what to do about it.