Safe.

“He knew how much she wanted him as a permanent perfection in her world, and how full her heart was at the thought of their blended future of real happiness. What he never knew was that in reality, she needed him just as much as she wanted him. 

She wore a flimsy sort of armor. 

She had a convincingly strong smile. 

She put on a brave front, but she was scared to death. 

She was anxious and worried. 

She had so much of her shit together but had so much of it always falling apart at the same time. She could never pick the pieces up fast enough. They blew in circles all around her until they all just disappeared into nothing.

She was insecure and she was so tired of fighting to be some bullshit version of a strong girl. She really had no armor at all. It dented and cracked until it fell apart too. 

So be it. Real is real.

She wanted someone else to finally take the reins to the scary parts of her life, and she wanted to feel the comfort and security that he brought her without him even realizing it. With him she felt protected, sheltered, shielded, loved, and at peace. More than anything though, she felt safe.” 

“The two of them spent so many hours having conversations about struggles that he experienced in his own life. From physical injuries, to all of the times that friends, family and lovers abandoned him, shit on him, or let him down; they touched upon a little bit of it all. Each and every experience was a piece that shaped who he was. It wired how his mind worked, and the ways in which he chose to live his life. She was so in tune with all of his pieces because she was a nurturer. She was an energy absorber. She was a lover, and she was a protector. She was a worrier and a fixer. She was also an empath. 

Every detail she knew about him, she held deep in her heart and cherished. She replayed everything he shared with her over and over in her mind so many times, trying to figure out ways to help change and fix all of his parts that hurt him. She did everything she could to show him without a single shred of doubt how amazing and different it would be with her because she actually, truly loved him. 

No one else ever had. 

She wanted to glue all of his broken pieces back together. That's what she was good at. That's who she was. She spent so much effort and time on wanting and trying to fix his pieces that she never took one moment to let them work or focus on her own. The two of them never even got to her broken pieces... 

Maybe the thin layer of tape that held hers all together was just strong enough that she didn't need to make sure they got to hers.  

Maybe focusing on his pieces instead was her distraction. 

Maybe it was her own avoidance. 

Maybe they were going to get to hers too and they just ran out of time... 

Whatever the reason, he never did know that while she wanted him, she really, actually, truly needed him. He saved her and he never even knew it...he never knew it at all.  Nearly everyone she loved left her life since her earliest memories. That really fucking scars a person. They just went away. They disappeared without explanation, without apologizes, without any caring thought at all. Being ghosted is the shittiest, most worthless feeling in the entire world and she's experienced it more times than she can even understand. 

It hasn’t made her strong and she hasn’t gotten used to it. She’s become hollow. 

She can count on one hand -one single hand -the number of "forevers" she has...the number of people who have never and will never leave her side in any kind of way. Random circumstances, shitty choices people made and bad timing all played leading roles, but that doesn’t make it all hurt any less. 

It doesn’t repair her weak self-esteem. 

It doesn’t strengthen her sensitive feelings. 

It doesn’t lessen her anxiety and worrisome nature. 

What it has done over the years is given her a crazy awesome sense of humor because making people happy makes her happy. It makes her feel like she contributes something positive. Making people laugh makes her laugh, and it really does mask how sad and broken she is. 

Myth: She's strong. 

Bullshit. What does that word really even mean? She's gotten through some hard times and randomly difficult situations. Who hasn’t. Looking back she wonders how she came out sane, let alone normal or happy. Really though, we can all say that about parts of our pasts, and that means she's no stronger than any body else. 

Myth: She’ll be fine. 

Really? Okay. 

Myth: She's a fighter. 

No. Not anymore. Her fight has fizzled and she's been waving a white flag for a very, very long time. She wishes someone would see it, run up to her, grab it out of her hand, throw the piece of shit on the ground, hold her face, look her straight in the eyes, and tell her that everything is going to be okay...that it is done...and that she doesn't have to fight for anything anymore.  She has spent so much time understanding why he was so different, and why she loved him to the core of her soul. 

Well, it’s simple. He saved her...He started to. 

He didn't realize it. He didn't even know, but he was saving her. 

The heaviness she carried on her shoulders for so so long was falling away. All that was left to feel was feather weight...and she loved that. She needed it.

He was strong. 

He was smart. 

He was a protector. 

He was responsible. 

His own demons and hard fought battles made him the single most admirable and strongest person she had ever known. Every ounce of that all seeped right into her own soul, and it warmed her beyond words. With the feel and sound of his heartbeat as her head lay against his chest, her eyes would fill with tears that she always quietly hid from him. 

She belonged there and she could let all of her pain go. It melted. It all just left, and she felt so fucking free. With his arm around her she was warm. She felt comfort. She felt protected. She felt so perfect...

She felt safe.”