I am afraid of the future. Deathly afraid.
Actually, maybe it's not the future I am afraid of. I can't quite put my finger on my fear.
But yet, here I am, at 10:32 PM and I'm sitting at my desk while my boyfriend is on FaceTime and I am on the verge of tears. I find myself zoning out and staring into space. Into nothingness. With all of these thoughts flowing in and out of my head. And sometimes I feel like I can't control it.
We will break up eventually. I will one day say something unforgivable. His mother already hates me and actively tries to break us up. One day she will succeed. One day her prayers will be answered. And mine will fall to the way side and die. And I will, once again, wake up alone. Or maybe we won't. Maybe we will be happy together forever. Maybe we'll get married and have our dream careers. But then something else will happen. We'll have a sick child. Or one of us will die prematurely. Or our families will protest our union and we will be alone. Just the two of us. And then he will die before me. Before his time. And once again, I will be all alone at 10:32 PM and I will have nothing but these thoughts to occupy my time and comfort me to sleep.
And I can't understand why I feel this way. Because truly there is nothing wrong. We don't fight. Ever. Have we argued? Yes. Have we disagreed? Definitely. But we have always made up immediately afterwards with sincerity. We have never simply swept an issue under the rug. We have never ignored each other's feelings. We have compromised. We have worked through things. He has held me countless times as I cried because I was terrified of expressing my mind (I have the previous one to thank for that character trait). And I have hugged him and reassured him that he has done nothing wrong over a thousand times. I am looking at his face even now through my little computer screen as he furiously works on a website for a new client. So why am I sitting here at 10:32 PM with silent tears in my eyes thinking that my world is completely falling apart?
Is it?
It is not.
Eventually he will hear me sniffle or notice that my eyes look fuller than usual and he will ask me "what's wrong?" and I will say "nothing." And he will respond "Babesy, why are you crying? What's wrong?" And he will stop what he is doing and won't allow me to "nothing" my way out of this conversation. He will stare at me. He will stare through me until I say something. Until I explain myself. Or until I reassure him that everything truly is OK. And as I reassure him that I am OK, I reassure myself at the same time. Everything is OK.
Everything is OK.
Everything is OK.
It's 10:33 PM. Everything is OK.
