When “I Love You” Is a Trigger
No one is prepared for the reaction
I have always been resistant to love. Even when I feel it, I’m quick to toss it aside like a hot potato. He had only known me a month, and he already saw it. But he stood out on that ledge and uttered those three little words anyway.
Granted, we had just finished off a bottle of fancy tequila so that might have added to his courage. He could never have anticipated my reaction. Even I was shocked by my outburst. As if it wasn’t under my control.
Anger
Anger bubbled up inside my body, burning my chest and burning my cheeks with hot tears that boiled over before I even realized I was about to cry.
“NO,” I shouted at him before leaving the bed and enclosing myself in the tiny hotel bathroom.
I glanced at myself in the mirror, unable to even meet my eye. I saw a blotchy face so screwed up in pain it hardly resembled my own, and the room began spinning. I was naked, but my knees were weak, and I sank onto the bathroom floor sobbing.
He can’t love me, I thought. I am too broken. He doesn’t deserve to love someone like me. And that is what I told him when he finally coaxed me to let him inside. He couldn’t possibly love someone so screwed up.
