Hate Me.

Sometimes all you've got still isn't enough to get you where you want to be. I'm putting everything I can into this, but maybe it's too much for what little I get in return. Love is selfless, but is this enough to keep me from burning out? It's a wrenching sort of heart-torn-out feeling, the ground beneath you collapses and you're falling, anticipating the hit. The impact. The end. You don't know how far the earth beneath you goes, and how hollow it really is until you hit rock bottom. The anxiety eats at you. It kills you. It hurts.

Suck it up, and soldier on. Hope is the only thing keeping me going, but I've learnt not to keep my hopes up. Even the tiniest glimmer of assurance that this isn't all for nothing will be enough. I've never been good at sharing, and I've never been good at putting others before me.

But I've never been good at failing or taking no for an answer. The inner conflict is overwhelming. I don't even know what to do with myself. I know I'm happier with you, but it hurts so fucking much not knowing. I hate not knowing. I hate surprises, and to date.. all the surprises that I've been handed, hurt me more than anything.

You are the darkness, you are the unfamiliar, you are not someone I'd take a chance on, you are not anything like what I'd feel safe with. You are a gamble and it scares the hell out of me taking this risk. The fear of getting myself hurt consumes me, but the part of me that is still so fresh, so curious, that is still wanting to be proven wrong about my views on love and life, defies the parts of me that are jaded and cynical from all my past hurts. All my disappointments. I don't want to feel any of that again.

But It's too soon for me to become so cold.

I still want to believe.

I still want something to hope for.

I really do.

I want to be this happy with someone who actually wants to be happy with me.

I will never accept being second to anything or anyone.