Sorting Things Out

What am I afraid of? Being alone? Because I already am. Not having sex? I would probably have more. Never finding adventure? Nothing is holding me back now. Starting over? Because it is inevitable that this happen one day, one way or another.

He doesn’t care and I cannot make him care. I have so much compassion and empathy for what he has gone through in his life. And all the hardship I have caused him. If I had known how much he would come to feel like he was a caregiver for me, I never would have trusted him enough to lean on him almost four years ago.

I imagine him happy that I am not messaging him right now. That he is basking in the glory of solitude. And yet, I cry for him. How can a human care so much for someone when it isn’t reciprocated?

He has pushed me away since he got out of prison and everyday I grow farther away. All of the “you have got to stop”s, and “that isn’t normals”s, and “you need to”s, and “because that’s what I do”s… he hasn’t listened in a long time. And he wonders why I do not trust him.

Why am I so unsure? And why is leaving the hardest part when I am already alone?

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