insecurity. i hate the word.

If I can't deal with my own insecurity, I go somewhere else for reassurance. It's simple, I say what I'm feeling, and I either get the support I'm looking for or I don't. So, I'm either searching for someone to tell me I'm everything I'm hoping to be, and more, and not any of the things that I hate about myself, and I'm satisfied... until I'm not. Then, I'll search again, for reassurance that I'm good, I'm okay, I'm beautiful and I'm not a terrible person. Even though deep down I know I am who I am and I'm okay with that, I may not know who I am all the time, and then I catch it, the insecurity bug. It's selfish, it's cruel, it's fucked up, and at the same time it's human nature, to need, to want, to know that I'm wanted.

And I know it's not only me. But, when it comes my turn to reassure and tell the only person who is my life right now that it's okay, I'm here to stay, and I may not know why but I know I want to be, for reasons unbeknownst to anyone but my soul, my conscience and my judgement. And there's nothing I can do about it- I can't deny that I'm addicted to his love, to his presence, personality, companionship and being, and there's nothing I would do to harm that.

But I catch myself being too selfish too often, and being inconsiderate to his feelings and similarities to me. I may be blind to our differences so much that when peace is starting to be altered it scares me and I retreat, and end up saying the wrong thing, doing more harm than good in the worst way possible, only because I don't know how to fix it or what to say to make it better. To reassure him that he is wonderful and everything I could have asked for and more, but don't ask me why. And don't ask me why asking me why makes me uncomfortable, because to me it makes no sense, scares me shitless and confuses me because what I know is right is right in all ways, and when I'm forced to doubt it I can't. I don't doubt it. And when the door shuts between us I get defensive and we clash, but what is that, love? To be accepted the next morning, unrestrained in unconditional love, is it normal? Whatever it is I'm glad we have it.

Insecurity. I hate the word.
It creeps up my skin like a thousand crawly fire ants, harmless unless provoked. I want to wash it off both our skins, soak our bodies in hydrogen peroxide and boil the uncertainty away. I feel deficient in knowledge of assurance. How to say what feels good, and expresses everything but instability, because that is what we need to be for each other.

I don't know any better way to say it but to wait like a shamed and bashful dog, scared of everything, for him to stumble upon this dumb blog- private thoughts made public, and read it for himself because I can't work up the courage to say something, anything at all, to make it worse or make it better. That's my stupid insecurity, that no matter what I say will be stupid, and being quiet is even stupider, and therefore I remain misunderstood. Fuck.

And what is this?