After a lifetime of abuse and neglect by people who “loved” me–parents, siblings, friends, mental health professionals– i find myself desperately searching for the warning sign that youre going to do the same.
How an i supposed to trust this feeling and security and comfort, of happiness and affection when everything Ive ever known is violence and dehumanization.
You keep loving me. Keep holding me. Keep kissing me tenderly. Yet I keep insisting this cant be real.

Because if its real it can hurt. It will hurt. 

But hurting is a part of life. 
I dont know how to shake these beliefs. I dont know how to love you the way youve been loved before.
All I know is youre patient and kind and willing to wait for me to figure this out.
And for that, that Im grateful. Insecure but grateful. 


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