Separation Anxiety | Teen Ink

Separation Anxiety

January 10, 2018
By Your_Apathetic_Basketcase ELITE, Orlando, Florida
Your_Apathetic_Basketcase ELITE, Orlando, Florida
137 articles 0 photos 42 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Just remember, if the world didn't suck, we'd all fall off."
-Derrolyn Anderson

"Don't trust everything you see, even salt looks like sugar."

"The sea speaks more honestly... To those willing to drown." -J.D. Hard


I had only asked for a kiss goodnight. I wish he was here, so he could, as he made kissy noises through the phone, my eyes became misty as if I had almost felt them press against my lips. But it was a fraud. Fraudulent kisses through a satellite receptor. He told me he’d never leave.

But he's not there. And I'm over here, miles away… sulking in my room. Looking out the window I watch the leaves sway against the bark of the branches. The branches seem to be limber and able to stretch. But much like myself, there's only so much a branch can take before it snaps in two, the branch tumbling to the ground.

It was if I, myself had been snapped into two. The way I felt my heart break every time he said goodbye, or when he’d cry from paranoia. I get upset if he struggles alone, so I tell him to call me. I don't want him backed against a figurative wall, and building bricks up to form another. Love is made on trust, and in order to trust, you have to take leaps of faith in hopes your partner will catch you. And that I shall.

I want to be the one, for when he takes a knee I can pick him up. I want to bring him to my level and tuck the hair behind his ear, and look him in the eye, and tell him that everything is going to be alright. I would never dream of leaving him. He makes me strong. I hope I can do the same for him, because as I stare through my screen, I see beauty in his smile, and pain in his eyes. He tries to hide somewhat of a lack of an exhilaration for life. He tells me I'm what makes him happy.

But I want him to be genuinely happy. I love seeing him laugh. Hearing it is the closest thing to “music in my ears” that I could ever try and describe. It’s contagious. The kind of contagious, where you try to become ill. If it is a disease, then I hope to never be healthy. The kind if ill where you call in sick and even though you don't feel it coming on, you know it's washing up on you like a tidal wave.

That’s exactly what he does to me. His love washed me ashore, and stranded me on a secluded island with him miles away. He's near, but he's far. He's close but so distant.

And the distance is killing me.

But what is killing me worse, is my anxiety. I feel like my heart is pounding out of my chest when I think about people taking the one thing I love away. And that would be him. I get angry thinking about other people snatching the only person I have left. I'm alone. Everyone leaves my life within a few months. And no one can deny it. I don't want to hear s***. And yet he stuck around.

But I don't know for how much longer.

And I lay awake, with crippling pains in my chest. Crushing. It is as if God is ripping the air from my lungs and breathing it into another human. I stare at my hands as they tremble in anxiousness. My paranoia. You see, I'm just like him. But I'm silent. And that is deadly, it's toxic. It isn't healthy for me. And I already know. I tell myself every night.

My heart is telling me to tell him what is wrong, and my brain is telling me to keep my mouth tempered, and quiet. And it is a bloody battle to see which one will win. Whichever on does, it won't be a beautiful masterpiece of Michelangelo, it will be more like Van Gogh. Angry and quiet brushstrokes against a screaming canvas. Dangerous.

And I don't want to keep this in. It's killing me. But I know it's for the best. I don't want to hurt anyone. And its better to hurt myself then to hurt other people. I have told myself that from the start. No matter how much of a rough and gnarly exterior I may seem to have… I truly am a softie. A flower, delicate, and easily wilted.

And my emotions have already wilted. I want to keep him happy. I want to marvel at that beautiful smile, and I want my ears to sing at the sound of his laugh. I want to look at his eyes and see love, not hurt. I want myself to go through the pain for him. And that, is why I keep my mouth shut about my pain, for no other reason than that. I will go through a battle within myself, and struggle at the sight of what I'm afraid of. A constant lingering of my biggest fears. And I won't say a word. Because I want to keep him happy. And I'm a hypocrite. Because love is built on trust. But I'm doing it to protect him.

And that… is why I will always love him more.



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