Safety and Love

He reads this blog, so I don't want to write in it in case he's frightened by something he reads.

He says he loves me so sincerely, so I'm afraid I won't love him much longer.

He makes me happy, so I'll have to leave him soon, because I can't depend on him. I can't expect whatever he and I have to last.

Afraid of commitment? Me? How do you figure? I have long relationships by highschool standards. Seriously. It's not like hearing someone say they love me is enough to make me never look at them again.

But I am afraid. I'm terrified. I've had my heart broken once, and I won't have it broken again. Those are the thoughts that destroy my loves. So I'm posting this, where he'll read it, to say I don't mean it when I think I want out. I can't get attached to you, because I can't expect a forever. I know that. So the moment I start getting attached, I start to distance myself, convince myself you aren't worth it. And you are worth it. I love you. I want us to have whatever it is we have, still. That should be enough. I should be focused on the present, on what makes sense in the now. I shouldn't worry about whatever's going to happen, because whatever it is will happen anyway, and worrying never helps. I know that, but I can't convince myself. So maybe if I write it down, it'll help.

This is it. The present is what matters, because at this point in my life, the past is too selective and inconsistant, and the future is too blurred. Neither of them are relevant, except in the ways the past makes me me. I won't ruin something worth having just because of how things were before, and how they might be someday.