Though I know this isn’t true, I live with a bone-deep fear that, if I spoke my thoughts aloud, he would stop loving me. And even if I could convince myself in the moment that speaking wouldn’t render me immediately and permanently unlovable, to explain my fears is humiliating.
Let me make it concrete. Do they pooh-pooh the ways in which you ache? Do they change the subject and run away when you share how you hurt? These things that make your heart explode — they might never understand why, but can they see precisely that it does, and appreciate you for it? Do they tell why you shouldn’t feel that way, instead of understanding why you do? Do you feel that you can express all your foolish yearnings and longings, or at least stumble towards them?