April 15, 2020
I’m waiting for him to tell me he doesn’t have space for me. Or find out the amount of space he does have for me isn’t enough. I feel like I’m holding my breath until we speak. “Has he changed his mind? Am I doing too much? Does this feel like a relationship?” My thoughts ran wild through the night. I wish I could say free, instead I say wild. Old Ciarras were awakened. They felt unsafe and angry. To be frank, I didn’t have the space for him and I was afraid I was creating too much space for him. Thinking I was different. Ah, yes something I know far too well. Different. Everytime it was different. It was different. Different. And although we were different, the feeling of us only being a moment made me feel uneasy. Another feeling I found myself in a lot: uneasiness. Could I be ok with us being only a moment? What’s the lesson in that...we just didn’t work? I was tired of holding my breath.
He wasn’t doing anything wrong. There was nothing off brand about him, about us...but it felt like I was making too much space for him and he wasn’t creating enough for me. Ah, yes. There it is. The issues of space.
Who cared anyways. I was leaving LA again. I had to take care of my family.
I felt restless. I felt alone. I felt scared. I felt like everything was coming at me too fast. I felt unbalanced and removing ____ from my thoughts seemed overwhelming. Why was I so scared? I felt small. I hate watching my insecurities inch out. I found myself scared to ask for exactly what I wanted. I wanted security. I wanted more attention. I wanted love. I wanted to feel like he had space for me and the more and more I got to know him I realized he didn’t and I didn’t have the space to have space for someone who had no space for me...