Wilted

Dear ____,
I believe you could never love me because you will never truly know me. I can't let you know me. I put up all the walls, even though I want to tear them down.

I do this with everyone. I want you to hate me because I'm not worthy of your love. But it would kill me if you hated me. I push you away, but I want you to be with me. I want you to love me, in spite of myself. In spite of my crushing self-esteem issues. In spite of my everything.

I want you. I want YOU.

And I don't.

I want to be taken, as I am. I want it to be time for my dreams, my hopes, my desires.

I want this lifetime to be rich with experience. I want it to be sated like a satisfied lover. I want to give you my everything.

And I don't want you.

I want the idea of you. I want the ____ I have created in my mind. The one who has grown out of childish desire and teenaged fantasies of semi-better times. I want to be more to you than I am because it would be a fulfillment of sorts. A way to be more than I am.

You want someone strong. Strong enough to counter-balance your weak moments. I am too weak. I am too fragile to even hold. I fly to pieces at the slightest jab. No. That isn't true. I bear up rather nicely in public. I bear up under a lot of pressure. Even though I feel my legs weakening. Even though I feel my everything weakening.

I'm not perfect. And I want to be. I want to be perfect for you. Even though I don't want to be perfect for anyone but myself.

You make me shine. Shine and wilt. Wilting, wilting, wilted.

That's all it takes. You shine and I long to shine too and I wilt instead.