hypothetical.

What if the truth is that I’m just too scared to admit? Will that make me any less of the person I am?

Truth is, it scares the shit out of me because I may be on the verge of losing myself. And I won’t change that for anyone. Not you. But if I do, I’m done (for?). Mostly done for. You might already be making me so happy that my own happiness does not come from within anymore. What will I have left? I cannot, would not relinquish that last vestige of power to you. It’s stupidity.

And if I do, that’s the biggest sign I would ever see. That would be the story that is made for me alone, uniquely and creatively crafted. And in that blinding moment, all that I have known and thought would be in heaps of debris. My life, my identity and everything I claim my own would be in shambles.

And remarkably, that would be terrifying but also impossibly beautiful.

Basically, I’m doomed either way. I want it and I don’t want it. I can’t take the step backwards but I’m too afraid of the step forward. I want to hope for it. But the outcome, which I don’t even know if I want, if it doesn’t actualize, I am afraid that it might disappoint me.

And you know what, my mind is deluded. This is not happening.

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