I Don’t Know About You, But I’m Scared To Feel
I don’t know about you, but I am scared as hell to feel something for someone.
I’ve been screaming to the whole world that I don’t know what love is and how it feels, but the minute I start thinking about particular man or dating someone new — it is like I’m trying to catch the bullet. I do not dodge, not at all. I expect it to hit me, I expect it to hit me so hard that I fall and my organs tear and I feel every bit of it, and when the bullet reaches my heart — I anticipate the excruciating pain of dying and the relief that comes after it.
I walk down the overcrowded street and I don’t hear the chatter of the old people in the variation of restaurants offering mediocre food to even less mediocre people. Sometimes I get pretentious like that in a mere hope to escape the same destiny. I fear mediocrity.
I’ve been told I am kind, nice and beautiful. And even though all the facts lead to those adjectives as conclusions and bottom lines of my personality, it is far from a description I give myself. I say “thank you,” because apparently that is a polite way in this world. But I don’t want to be polite. I don’t want to say “thank you.” I want to yell and scream and be arrogant for once.
I want to be the way I feel, not the way I have to be. I am scared people won’t accept the “me” I hide. I am scared someone very dear to my heart won’t understand me. I am scared of the hate I bestow on myself.
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Originally published on Thought Catalog
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