Is this how insecurity feels like


Is this how insecurity feels like?

Heart’s throbbing so loud I can hear it as a drum beat in my head.
Food does not taste good and I can’t remember when I had the last meal.
Fingers quiver, sight trembles.
A feverish feeling envelopes me.

Is this how insecurity feels like?

Your actions and your words seem to be out of sync with each other. I hear all the things you say. I voice them aloud in my head over and over again. Yet the soul is not convinced.

And the innocent heart, the throbbing heart refuses to listen. Instead it points at your actions. Actions, which clearly speak another story.

1. You have trouble confiding in me, confiding anything at all. Perhaps, your actions are justified, after my immature, knee-jerk reactions. You heard me holler like a demon and witnessed the venom of my rage. *Do I blame her?*

2. You admitted that you are keeping her options open. (You did it in a way that swept the ground beneath my feet). Do you have good options? You think you do. I know a mirage when I spot one.

3. You are giving me ample time–time where we are not able to talk to each other, time where we are not able to communicate with each other, time where we are not able to connect. Despite the amount of time you are bestowing upon me, you find time to “socialize”. I want to believe that it is nothing but socialization, but I’ve known you better than everyone else, probably better than your own mother. And I know not whom you socialize with. I trust you, blindly, as I always have. But my wicked imagination whips me…

4. I *command* things of you and you say, “yes, done.” These are the things pertaining to men you warmed up to when you were far away from me. But, I notice that your “yes, done,” are mere words, words to sideline a temper you now realizes is volcanic and remarkably destructive.

5. You say that you will do things for me. I believe you. I want to believe you. The trouble is, I don’t notice a start. But I’ve noticed you do things for other men. And not merely in the start.

Is this how insecurity feels like?

Heart’s throbbing so loud I can hear it as a drum beat in my head.
Food does not taste good and I can’t remember when I had the last meal.
Fingers quiver, sight trembles.
A feverish feeling envelopes me.

Deprived of information and honesty from your end, I begin unearthing sources that I can readily access without compromising my integrity and honor. And all those sources tell me the same thing: your words and your actions are not in sync.

Is this how insecurity feels like?

Oh my dearest,
This is not insecurity. This is the thought of seeing you hurt, yet again. Yes, the very thought of seeing you hurt ravages through me like a hurricane.

For me, to me, pain is a friend. I enjoy it’s company. I enjoy it so much, that at times I’ve inflicted it upon myself. No, my dearest, I’m not scared of getting hurt. Public humiliation was never a concern, and even now, it isn’t.

It’s the thought of seeing you hurt.

I know you will recover from it. I know you will learn to move on, like you have always done. I know that such pain would be as transitory as a cloud in the monsoon sky.

But, I’ve come to a stage, where I can’t afford to see you hurt. I know that I’ve been the reason for your pain in the past. I’ve taught myself to live with that, hard as it has been. Not anymore. This is a guilt I won’t be able to take.

Like always, I’ll not go away from you. Like always, you’ll push me away.

Funny how life goes in circles. Our positions are reversed, more or less, aren’t they?
At least, now do you see what my knee-jerk reactions were meant to be?

They were a demonstration.

I was showing you what you did to me. Back then, you blamed me for not talking to you enough. Now, do you understand, that when one behaves like this, the partner just feels like running away. It becomes impossible to make conversation. You wouldn’t know what to share and what not to. And so in the interest of peace of mind, you stop sharing.

When this happens, the rift between us appears and begins to grow. As our eyes look at new horizons, new mesmerizing colors attract our attention. I’m not scared of letting you go, painful as it would be. But I’m scared for you. I’ve taught myself to live without you. Even in the short span of time we’ve been together, I’ve forgotten it. But I can teach it to myself again, even if it takes a lifetime.

All I’m scared for, is, you getting hurt.

*Do I blame you* I am just not capable of it. Even if the entire cosmos was stocked with books and words on love, it will still not capture the essence of what I have for you.

Oh my dearest, can you talk to me?

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