I’ve had to ask myself lately what would be the worst possible outcome if he did leave. And after much consideration, my answer has been that all I would have left of our involvement would be memories. The memory of what it felt like to sparkle from within, to be completely silly and to have experienced his presences.
There was life before him and there will be life after him. But what if my life was with him? And that question causes me to fear life itself. To accept the fact that someone would really want to be with me for me, is a tough pill to swallow.
No matter how much I tell myself that I am worthy of such thing at what point do I actually believe it? If I continue to put so much negative energy towards this very thing that I want so bad, am I feeding into my fears and creating its reality?
to be continued: SAC