Holding On.

Last night, I sat there for 15 minutes, angry at my parents for turning me into such a chemically in-balanced person. I keep replaying things over and over again in my mind, thinking “Where the hell did I take that wrong turn?” I don’t know where I left my heart, and I really want it back.

I’ve been sitting here, staring at a blank page for almost 10 minutes, trying to gather the right thoughts and trying to pick the right words to conclude my feelings about us.

I found an old letter that I wrote you, and the sweetest words brought back old feelings. I never realized it until that very moment, it just seems those feelings are gone and I ran out of nice things to say. I am trying to not quit on fighting our battles, nor have I given up fighting for you, but, I think I lost my will and all my strength a long time ago. So, I’ve been fighting for the old you, inside the new me.

I have felt more confident inside the new me, the one with the backbone, and I think I can see through you. Your thoughts of seeing me less beautiful with my new tough skin and the betrayal of the same backbone you built for me.

We talked about our biggest fears, something tells me that it wasn’t infidelity that you’re afraid of, but it is the fear of not knowing if our future will be with each other. I’ve eaten up my own words and have pushed aside advice I’ve given you because I’ve become more alert … or maybe bitter. I have convinced myself that we will never change, and yet we have … you for the better and me for the worst.

I’ve envisioned love a different way, and have realized that me trying to define love has caused me to hurt you. I know you feel helpless. I can see you slowly falling.