An Open Letter From The Girl Who's Afraid To Love
I want to feel everything with you. But to do that would be to feel the things that make me the most vulnerable.
By Madison Flatman
To the person I’m currently interested in,
I know you might be wondering why there are always small pauses between my sentences that you always find a way to fill.
Sometimes, my brain finds a way out of the conversation — not because I don’t have any interest in what you’re saying but because I’m so worried about what I will say next. I feel my mouth is like a grenade that can easily wreak havoc on the comforting feeling I have when I’m with you.
I’ve never had a place I’ve found comfort in, so I’ve always tried to find it with people.
Growing up, my family moved from place to place. Every year or two, my grandparents would mail my Christmas gifts to a different address. Their gifts were always a sweet constant during a holiday that never stayed the same.
It was always up in the air who would be surrounded by the tree that year. Or if there would be a tree at all.
I don’t expect you to stay because I’m so used to change.
People have come in and out of my life as if my existence was optional.
For the longest time, I would constantly find myself grasping onto one-sided friendships while pushing away genuine ones. I’d let go of people who tried to make me see the good in them. All I saw were the emotional scars inflicted by other people.
I’ve always had a hard time being honest with my emotions, including love.
As a kid, my mother told me that crying made me appear weak. So I learned to hold back my tears until I was alone.
When I watched sad movies that would make me cry, I would escape into the bathroom with a bundle of toilet paper in my hand as I buried my blood-red eyes into my shaking hands. I’d flush down the tear-soaked evidence before washing my face with cold water.
I feel everything deeply until I feel absolutely nothing at all, and this includes emotions like love.
I want to feel everything with you. But to do that would be to feel the things that make me the most vulnerable.
To feel everything with you means I have to put myself in a position where my voice overpowers my fear when I think of telling you exactly how I feel.
I’ve constantly looked into every single thing you’ve done as if your love is a map guiding me to the treasure that may be buried in your chest.
Are there feelings inside that you have hidden? Or has everything you felt already risen to the surface? I wonder if my emotions have led me on a trail with no clear destination.
Where do we go from here?
Madison Flatman is a singer, drummer, and writer from Wisconsin and a frequent contributor to Unwritten. Her work focuses on topics of wellness, relationships, and mental health.