The Things I Never Say To You.

Sometimes, just being in the same room as you is enough.
Knowing that you're here makes me feel safe.

Sometimes, I don't want to be touched and all I need from you is to know that's okay.

You say you never know what to expect or when it's okay, but it's not like I do either.

I don't get a head-ups.

It's not like I can say to you, "four hours from now I'll be triggered and, I won't want you to touch me."

Things would be so much easier if I could.

No. Instead I'll wait for you to fall asleep before I come to bed because I don't know how to say, "I don't want you to touch me and it's not your fault".

I don't want you to feel rejected so, I'll avoid the conversation; but, what I'll really want and need is for you to say "It's okay, I love you and you're safe. I am here with you and I don't need to touch you to know that I am loved."

Sometimes, I feel so much shame and guilt because all I want to do is give you what you need but I keep telling myself I can't.

I can't because I've been broken and I'm trying to heal but it's hard.

Sometimes, I feel so alone, even when I am surrounded by people.
And I know you're here with me but you can't be HERE with me.

Sometimes, I look at you and feel so much anger- not because you've done anything wrong but because you can't possibly understand the battlefield I walk through everyday without moving an inch. Then, I feel guilty because that's not your fault.

I don't know how to tell you that going to bed is sometimes the hardest part of the day because that's when I'm alone with my thoughts.

Sometimes, when I seem to overreact, I'm actually reacting to the feelings that bring me back to a place I'd rather forget.

The things I don't say to you are the things I fear will cause you to leave.

I know I like control, it makes me feel safe. When things are out of my control I immediately feel threatened- not because there is any actual physical danger but because my body, my body remembers this feeling and relates it to another time.

How do I tell you, the burdens I bare are the clothes that I've worn since childhood. I've outgrown them but, taking them off would mean I'm left naked and vulnerable; and what if you don't like what you see- what if I don't?

I know these clothes are too small, they're torn, stained and reek of the stench of past transgressions. But they've been home for so long that once they're gone I'll grief the loss of them.

It's strange how the very thing that kept me afloat for so long is also suffocating me and I didn't realize I needed air until you showed me I was drowning.

Sometimes, keeping my distance is a way of giving myself the control I feel I need to be safe.

Sometimes, I look at you and think I'm the luckiest person alive and then feel guilty, guilty because I've convinced myself I'm not good enough for you.

I tell myself it's not true but when the same record has been playing in your head for 26 years, it's a hard tune to forget.

Sometimes, I get lost in the sound of your heartbeat like a meditation, and then my thoughts betray me and I don't know how to say I have to move away.

So instead, I deprive myself of the oasis that is your love just to lessen the potential of being violated by my thought; and in return all it does is hurt you and I'm left stuck in the prison of my head.

Why after all these years are my thoughts still contaminated with self hatred and dread?

How do I tell you that I'm scared. I'm scared that I can't be what you need but I don't want to lose you, so I selfishly hold on because I'm afraid of what will be left once you're gone.

Please help me.

How do I tell you that I'm sorry?
Sorry for all of the things you'll never know or understand.

I'm sorry for the things I never say to you...things I want to say to you but I can't because I don't know how to say them.