I’m Scared To Write About You


I’m scared to write about you. I’m scared to try and put you in a box of words. Words that will never be the perfect way to describe who you are at your core, and the meaning you’ve brought to my life. As a writer, that’s the one outlet that seems to come as naturally as breathing for me. Life unfolds when I’m tapping away at the computer screen, or have a pen whizzing across the paper.

But I think of you and it stops.

This is a first. From the moment I met you, it’s all been a first for me. Time is marked by before and after you. Each relationship preceding you may have seemed different at the onset, but looking back they were all the same. They were all me trying. Trying too hard to fit a round peg in a square hole. See, I was the square hole and the harder I tried to fit these guys into my life, the more it chipped away at my edges. I was dulling myself down, wearing away at the rougher bits of myself in the hopes that I’d be enough for someone else.

I always thought relationships were about compromise, so I did. A little too much, looking back. I gave and gave, and expected that by giving these pieces away, I was showing how much I cared. But really, it was having a reverse effect. I wasn’t caring about the one person who truly mattered–me. I think somewhere along the way in dating I forgot to ask myself, “What do I want?” Or, “Does this person even make me happy?”

I was spending so much time trying to make someone else like me, that I hadn’t sat down to consider if they were even right for me.

Looking back, I realize it was my own ego getting in the way. I desperately craved affirmation I was liked and good enough, so I sought men I knew were wrong deep down. Because those ones would provide that sense of accomplishment to win over. Constantly living in the thrill of the chase. Until I realized something-no one can make you feel good enough other than you. It’s not all hippie talk; it really does start within.

Then you came in and flipped my world upside down. The first night I met you, I looked into your eyes and saw such an intense amount of sincerity and kindness. Eyes beyond anything I’d seen before. From our first conversation and onward, I have never had so many similarities with someone in my life. The things I kept hidden and to myself, I spoke freely of with you. And the crazy part was, you understood me. I never have to explain myself, you just comprehend exactly what I’m thinking. You get to know me deeper than the surface, and ask the questions others never would. I can talk to you about the grander philosophies of life, or the daily trivialities, without a missing beat.

Beyond just the commonalities in our personalities and interests, I feel a sense of ease. Like a lot of girls in this day and age, I think the lack of clarity on where we stand in a relationship provides a sense of anxiety and frustration, which can oftentimes be showcased in passive aggressive ways until it reaches a boiling point. In pretty much every relationship before, this anxiety has been ever present. It takes a toll on my attention span, and pretty soon all I’m consumed with are thoughts of how much he likes me, and where this is going. I’ve never felt that way with you.

I always feel as though we’re on the same page, and I don’t need to question your intentions and motives. I don’t need to rush things, because I trust the timing of what we have.

Maybe it’s naïve, or maybe, just maybe, this is what the right one feels like. Like you can lead your own lives and when you come together it’s like listening to your favorite song. It never gets old, and it always feels right.

I guess the reason I’m most scared of writing about you is because writing about you makes this real. And if it’s real, you’re something I could lose. Which scares me the most. Meeting someone like you has changed me in more ways than you could know. You’ve added sparkle to what once was dull.