In Protected

Safe Space

She said that it makes sense because you’re still my safe space.

And I hate it.

Because in the midst of feeling like absolute crap. As I curled up in a ball somehow simultaneously shivering cold and burning hot. When my body could do absolutely nothing for me besides be weak and helpless. In that moment all I wanted was you.

Even after all these months. After all of the emotional pain- that far outweighs the physical pain I have been feeling… It’s still you.

And it’s not process of elimination you. It’s not last resort you. It’s always immediately and instinctively you.

Maybe it’s my fault.

Maybe I’m not trying hard enough for it to not be you. Maybe I could do more. Meet more people. Do more things. Be more busy.

Or maybe it’s my fault for letting it be you in the first place. Shame on me. I should have known better. I should have been more cautious. I should have listened to what everyone else had told me about you. I should have ran the other direction.

Instead I ran right to you.

I trusted you. I let myself be completely raw with you. Exposed and unprotected. I brought down all of the walls. I let you be the first. All because I felt safe with you.

And I guess I still do. Feel safe with you. Because it’s always still you.

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