To the man who was too afraid to love me—and to the one who will:
I hope you are not scared by my fear.
I talk a big talk,
and live with my heart breathing vulnerably into this world.
But I still get scared.
I am still a slave to the anxiety in my chest,
the depression that sometimes makes waking up the greatest mountain.
I shut down when I feel overwhelmed.
And when I am too scared to love you,
I need you to love me anyway.
I am strong,
and at home in my skin,
but I still crave a protector—
a partner to make me feel safer in this world,
safer in my skin.
Someone to love me so fiercely,
that I do not worry if their gaze lands upon a beautiful woman who enters the room.
I will not panic if I see you
share a moment with a gorgeous stranger,
for I know there is no where you would rather be
than by my side,
when I am open to having you.
I want the roar of passion
and the hum of sweetness,
falling deeper into the beating, breathing muscle in your chest.
Drowning in your glance,
and finding home in your neck.
I want a great love,
but I will fight you.
The brain does not always follow the heart,
and maybe the chemistry in mine is imbalanced,
giving me a fatigue in my limbs that no caffeine can outrace—
a fog in my heart.
I need you to sit with me
and love me here, too.
To the man who was too afraid to love me,
I am sorry my fear
ever stopped you.
Fear was my mind
blocking the greatness in my heart.
She is clearly too much
for some to handle.
Author: Annabelle Blythe
Image: Courtesy of author
Editor: Nicole Cameron
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