random?

 being afraid to love feels like living in a cage of my own making, a cage i built to shield myself from the unbearable pain of loss. i am terrified, not just of losing something i hold close, but of the agony that comes with it. the kind of pain that feels like my skin is being ripped away from my flesh while i’m still breathing, the blood staining every memory i dared to hold onto. it’s like my bones shattering under the weight of what i can no longer have, leaving me bleeding alive, suffocating in the void of what once was. i cling to illusions, to dreams that maybe, just maybe, i can hold onto something without ever having to say goodbye. but deep down, i know better. i know that everything i love will eventually slip through my fingers, no matter how tightly i grip it. and that thought? it’s like a dagger twisting inside me, slicing through every ounce of hope i try to cling to. so i put up walls, high and unbreakable to keep myself from ever feeling that pain again. selfish, isn’t it? but what choice do i have when loving feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing the fall will break every part of me? yet, even in my fear, i crave the kind of love that burns, the kind that tears me apart and still feels worth it. i want to love so fiercely that the agony becomes a part of the beauty, a reminder that i was alive, that i felt something real. but how do i reconcile that desire with the terror of losing it all? how do i let myself fall, knowing that the ground will meet me with merciless force? it’s an endless war inside me. one part of me wants to believe that love can exist without the fear of loss, that maybe i can find something so pure it won’t slip away. but the other part. the part that remembers the raw, excruciating pain of letting go pulls me back. and in that war, i’ve become a prisoner, trapped between wanting to feel and fearing the cost of it. sometimes, i wonder if this fear is worse than the pain of losing itself. maybe it’s the not knowing, the what ifs, that claw at my chest and make it hard to breathe. it’s the anticipation of heartbreak, the waiting for something precious to be ripped away, that feels like being skinned alive. i’ve convinced myself that if i never let myself love, i’ll never have to feel the agony of loss. but that kind of emptiness? it’s its own kind of death. a slow, silent decay where nothing ever truly touches my soul. i’ve heard people say that it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. but have they ever felt the kind of loss that leaves you bleeding on the inside, that makes you wish you could carve out the memories just to stop the pain? have they ever felt the kind of love that wraps itself so tightly around your heart, only to rip it apart piece by piece when it’s gone? maybe they’re stronger than me. maybe they’ve learned to see the beauty in the scars. but for me, the thought of loving and losing feels like my bones are being crushed under a weight i can’t bear. i wish i could be brave. i wish i could throw myself into love without the fear of what might come next. i want to believe that love is worth the pain, that even if it shatters me, i’ll come out the other side stronger. but the truth is, i’m not sure i can survive that kind of heartbreak again. i’m not sure i can watch something i cherish slip away, knowing i gave it my everything and still lost it. loving something and knowing you’ll lose it feels like a slow death. it’s a gore agony that tears you apart piece by piece, leaving you raw and exposed, bleeding from wounds you can’t even see. it’s the kind of pain that makes you question why you ever let yourself feel in the first place. but maybe that’s the price of love. a reminder that nothing truly worth having comes without the risk of losing it. and maybe, just maybe, one day i’ll find the courage to love, not despite the pain but because of it. i want to believe that love can be more than just pain, that it can be a source of strength instead of a reason for despair. but for now, the fear keeps me locked away, staring at the world from behind my walls, wishing i could reach out without the weight of loss looming over me. and maybe that’s the cruelest part of it all. wanting so desperately to love, but being too afraid to let it in. because in the end, it’s not the love that destroys me. it’s the fear of losing it.