Letter of truth

There are things that are easier to write than say.
Some things about me you don't know.
I like to give to people, but I hate sharing like a little child.
I'm selfish, but not completely.

If I let you live with me, I won't want to share my things, but I do. I get picky because I want things to be mine. I want them a certain way, and sometimes I don't know how to say no. Like when I say no smoking in the house, I mean it, not even in another room with the door closed, yet I will give in. I don't want to be alone, yet i'd rather live by myself. It's a contradiction I have with myself.

I don't know how to get over this or if I want to. If I set down rules, I give in because i'm afraid of conflict, of things being said behind my back. I just want to be a people pleaser. I try not to be vulnerable, but I am. This time I'm trying to stick by my guns. I'm really afraid this time. I always get screwed, always, and this time I will secure myself so no matter what, I can take care of me.

Maybe I am screwing myself and don't know it. I'm not sure how you can be so sure you want to marry me. We've only been together for 3 months. For me this time around, i'm terrified. I don't want to marry again. I'd be happier just being happy. I think about the bad things and the what-if's, I haven't done that before, and maybe I should have, and so I shouldn't this time.

I feel ruined and dead inside. I miss my Swedish life. It depresses me. I don't know what to do.
I'm lost inside myself.
I don't even think I want to be found.
But I am tired of being miserable.
I'm a conflict within myself.
Save me.

Before, I thought you were perfect, but I wanted a little, very little softness. I never said it. You did it on your own for fear of losing me. For some reason yourover doing it. I can't figure out why. I feel smothered. Maybe we moved too fast. I should have taken it slow, after-all, I have only just become newly single.

I have myself to blame.

I should have known to go slow, when on our first 'date' you were drunk when i got there and even more so as the evening wore on. I hate thinking about it. I should have known better, but then maybe we wouldn't be where we are now. You almost never have a drink anymore and you go weeks without. Of that I am proud.

I love you so much, and I wouldn't trade you for anything. I think maybe it was on a rebound that I came to you. I don't like the way that sounds, but it might be true.

Maybe I'm depressed. How...how utterly sad. Thats the only word that comes to mind. I don't get depressed, but something happened to me over there in Sweden. A huge part of me was left behind. It hurts more and more all the time and i cannot break all ties. I just can't do it.

You shouldn't suffer from my downfalls.
You shouldn't have to face my moments of sadness and hurt from it all.
I want to seclude myself.
Go there, go to Sweden and be happy, but I can't, so I want seclusion...
a recluse of everything that is.

You'll suffer because I am.
I don't want that for you.
So in turn I keep it to myself.
Once again, I'm a conflict with myself.

What a misery.