Tormented Anticipation

I’m so afraid to talk to you. About Everything.
Even though I’m in pain and I’m angry and confused, I’m so scared to say anything.
What if all that does is push you further away?
What if I’m wrong and everything is fine and I’m making this all up in my head?

I’m not wrong.

Something has changed.
I know it’s not me, I’m the same person you were falling in love with two months ago.
It has to be you.
It would be easy to believe that all that’s changed is your feelings for me.
That you just woke up one morning and realized you no longer loved me and was just too afraid or too unaware to do anything about it.
That would be incredibly painful but easy to believe.

I refuse to believe it.

I don’t think you’ve stopped caring for me.
When we talk it’s still you.
I can still make you laugh, I can still make you happy.
But it’s like if we’re not in the moment, you forget it, or you’re afraid of it.
It being us.
That’s why I just wanted to see you again.
I thought if I could just see you in person, look into your eyes and talk to you in person I could figure it out.
Or at least I could help you figure it out.

But now I’m not so sure.

Now, I think you will avoid me at any cost.
Even if that cost is us.
Now it feels like seeing you is the last thing I want to do.
Because seeing you means I’ll have to talk to you.
I’ll have to bring up everything that’s been tormenting me these past weeks and your response won’t be one I’ve manufactured in my head, it’ll be you actually talking.

And I’m so scared of what you’ll say.

Remembering everything you said before is what gives me hope.
I let myself get lost in the early memories of us.
When I could look into the future unafraid and you kept telling me how happy you were.
Thinking of the you of then is what I use to allow myself to still love you.
Because I do, I really do.
And for so long I was convinced you loved me too.
I could’ve sworn it.

Part of me believes you still love me.

The rest of me is too terrified to see you that I can’t think clearly.

All of me is confused and angry and hurt.
And even though I am terrified, I know the only way to feel even the least bit better, is to talk to you.