What I Want From Me

I want to say a lot of things. I’m so full of words that I have kept inside. That now they’re at the risk of spilling out when the time is wrong.

When the time is right, I keep thinking, “Is this the right time?” It is, but retrospect lends a simplistic perspective.

I get so angry with you, for things that I have always wanted to say. Sometimes I wish that it could all bubble up and I could say that “It wasn’t me! It was some odd demonic posession that caused all this.” I want you to hear the bubbling words without me ever saying them.

I fear that if I was to let those words loose, they’d leave my tongue bitter. You and everyone else would leave me when you heard them. I have always had this fear stemming from wanting to please everyone, stemming from parental issues, stemming from bad family connections that span decades, stemming from a lack of therapy and a bad understanding of love.

I want to tell you that I love you so much that it angers me that I can’t say these things to you openly. What I want from me is so much, and I let myself down every time I keep the lid on those words.

I only let them simmer in veiled posts, poky jabs, and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

What I want from me is courage to face the words.

I want to face the thoughts behind the words. The actions the words may lend themselves to. I want to face the consequences of the words.

What I want from me is the courage for all of that.

Photo credit: Unsplash

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