You Would Be Stupid To Date Me

By

 

No matter how many times you swear you’re committed to me, no matter how loyal you seem, I will still struggle to trust you. I will be tempted to search through your phone and your emails, but I will hold myself back while imagining all of the horrible things you could be hiding. I will assume it’s only a matter of time until you hurt me. I will think the worst of you, even if you’ve only shown me the best, because the world has taught me no one is to be trusted.

Even after you agree to spend your life with me, I will need constant reassurance that you don’t hate me. Your actions aren’t enough. It doesn’t matter how many times you kiss my lips and send morning selfies. I still need to hear the words. I need I love you and you look good today and you’re the only one for me. If you go too long without reminding me, I will assume you’ve grown bored of me. I will count down the days until you move onto someone better.

I have heavy baggage I am still struggling to handle. I blame other people for it — my exes, my parents, my almosts. I push people away and think it’s okay because I have been hurt before and am only trying to protect myself. I make the same old excuses for my bullshit behavior. I call myself guarded and think that means I can do whatever I want without feeling guilty. I think it’s okay if I ignore texts and cancel dates and initiate breakups, because I’m not doing it to be mean. I’m only doing it because I’m afraid.

I am extreme. I am dramatic. I will overreact when your voice changes its tone, when you forget to send me a text back, when you look at your phone instead of into my eyes. When the slightest thing gets my attention, I will assume something is wrong. I will picture the worst case scenario. I will have imaginary fights with you inside of my head and then blow up in real life because I think I can guess what you’re about to say.

I need constant attention. I need texts scattered throughout the day and your body touching mine at almost all times. But even though I expect you to give me the attention I’m seeking, I probably won’t give you everything you’re asking for, because I care more about myself than anyone else. I will always put myself first. The second you screw me over, I will cut you out of my world. But if I screw you over, I will expect your forgiveness. Another chance. One more try.

I am broken. I am lost. I am difficult to love.

I am not worth your time.

But if you give me your time anyway, if you’re willing to accept the baggage that comes along with me, I will put in effort. I will try my hardest to fix my flaws, to work past my insecurities, to give you the love you deserve even though I’m not even sure how to give that kind of love to myself.