I need someone who can put up with my shit, who can keep me grounded when I need it, and hold me up when I need it. I need someone who can take care of the practical stuff when I’m too busy being a nut-job. I need someone who believes in me when I simply don’t know how to believe in myself. I need someone who lets me be unreliable sometimes, who tells me when it’s time to stop. I need someone to take care of me and sometimes just take control, because I am so sick and fucking tired of being the one who has to stay in control, stay contained, and take care of everyone els around me. I need someone who puts me first, at least SOME of the time. I need someone who isn’t going to leave. I need someone who can see my bad nights coming and knows how to prepare for them, and cares enough to help me struggle through them no matter how horrible and difficult it is, or how stubborn and stupid I am. I need someone who will make me feel safe. Safe enough to sleep. Safe enough to love. Safe enough to let go. Safe enough to cry. Safe enough to stop holding everything in for years and years and years and just let it explode.
I have been so still and so contained for so long. And every nerve in my body is itching and screaming and jangling. Every muscle is ready to burst. Every bone is ready to break. I am so desperate to just ignite, to break every plate, every glass, every vase, every window in the house. To tear apart my room and topple over bookshelves. To burn the whole fucking thing to ground.
But I can’t. I never have. I probably never will. Because too many people are relying on me to be the controlled one. Too many people expect things of me. And there is no one, NO ONE, who would be around to pick up the pieces if I simply let myself shatter.