Eventually, the panic always turns into fear that I’ll eventually let it ruin everything.
I can’t change the past, I can’t accept it and forget it, at least not yet, and I don’t want to run away from it. I don’t know of another option. I just don’t want my pain to bleed over onto others.
I’m hurt far too easily, and stay hurt for far too long. My brain understands, but my gut, or my heart, or whatever, has a mind of its own. I’m glad I have someone who understands my own version of insanity, for the most part. I’d really rather not be this way, but I probably always will be, now.