doubt

I'm genuinely terrified. My heart starts pounding and I'm short of breath. A flash of horror that creeps up on me when I least expect it. Although I told myself it was nothing, I saw it, and I can't pretend it never happened. You came out smiling, kissed me on the lips and told me everything was alright, I smiled and told myself everything was, indeed, alright....I didn't believe you or myself.

Regardless of how paranoid I sound, I do trust you, but I can't reconcile the two very different people that live inside you, and I know I should be able to but every time I try my stomach knots up and I crawl into a corner, hoping you'll pick me up, hug me and tell me everything's all right until I actually believe it for a while.

I want you to be free, I want you to achieve your happiness through that freedom and watch you as you thrive, laughing and smiling all the way. I want you to be You. But, does that imply that I can no longer be myself? At what point does flexibility turn into the erosion of my own values, those in which I pride myself and hold dear to my heart. I watch you on the edge, giggling as you tiptoe, your feet losing grasp and watching tiny pebbles fall into the abyss. You're not alone, you're surrounded by a lot of people that cheer you on, it's a party; matter of fact, I'm the only one standing safely inland. I can picture the scene from Annie Dillard's “An Expedition to the Pole”, polar bears dancing with clowns: music, laughter, a frenzy of madness as you jump blindly from iceberg to iceberg, not realizing the ice might just break under your feet, but rather laughing as you slip and slide all the way across the ice. What you don't seem to notice is the rope attached to both our waists. I don't want to pull you in, you seem happy, but if you fall you'll drag me with you or force me to cut you loose. The question that keeps me up at night is which would happen....could I ever cut you loose?

I try to scream but my lungs just won't do it, I know I should scream, I know I should just let it out even if that means the whole party just comes to a crashing stop like those bands that go horribly wrong and end on the wrong chord. And yet, I don't...I don't want to be the one that wipes the smile off your face, I don't want to be that person.

You make me happy, you make me smile, you make my eyes shine and my heart skip a beat...but am I just living in blissful ignorance? Do I know what lies under the soothing beats that lull me to sleep as I put my head on your chest? I really hope I do. I know I do, I know you to be gentle, smart, funny, considerate, fair and objective, but your Mr. Hyde haunts me. I still don't know if mine hasn't come out yet or if it has simply taken on a form of restraint and criticism towards others, rotting my skin from the inside.

I want to get to the point where I know you're better than those that surround you, where my trust is stronger than any situation, where doubt is not an issue...I know I'll never get there...I know it's a risk I have to take, but the possible outcomes paralyze me with fear. Perhaps fear of the unknown, but fear nonetheless.

You took a risk with me....is this the same? I always believed I could ask nothing else of you, and I still don't know if I would be asking you for your sake or for mine....I really think it's for ours, even if that may make me selfish.

As I write I still don't know what I'm going to tell you. I know it won't go away and I know you will hug me and ask me what the matter is, I still don't know if I'm going to swallow and bury it just deep enough so you can't actually see my fear, or if I'll be honest, even if that means risking us.

It goes away, it comes back, it toys with me like a breeze, a ghost that softly whispers into my ear, always repeating the same word: “doubt”