Sometimes I wonder if I fight your love because I’m afraid of it. I’m ashamed of you, when you have more right to be ashamed of me. But you don’t care. And I’m jealous of that. Why don’t I know how to love? Have I been taught hate for so long? You asked me today, who I was blaming before you got into the picture. I guess everyone around me. The last person who did me wrong. But ultimately? Myself. I’ve always blamed myself. Scrutinized my actions. I’m my own worst critic. But that was conditioned into me. I apologize. I miss everyone. I’m a builder and destroyer, and I got real tired of building so I just destroyed. And then you came in the picture. And I got a hold of myself. Today I pictured myself angry with you and your gentle reaction. You always have a gentle reaction. I don’t know why. I wish I knew how to love like you…. but doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I’m just afraid. Of. Love. So. I. Fight. It.