"I need you to need me"

I love you, and you know that.
I sacrifice for you,
and I am appreciated for it.
You make sacrifices,
and it makes me love you that much more.
You’re just so amazing, in so many ways.

But the truth is,
the stuff I won’t tell you,
is that I need you.
Desperately.

I’m sure you can see it
written all over my face,
or can tell from how I act.
I need you as deeply and completely
as I need oxygen.
I miss you when we’re not together,
hunger for your presence.

And I hate it that you don’t need me in the same way.
I hate being in this position.
I hate not being the one in control,
of my heart, my head, my feelings.
I hate not being the one with all of the cards.
I hate that you hold those cards
that I’m so accustomed to keeping in my possession.
I hate that I’m the one out on the limb,
and you’re sitting comfy, with nothing on the line.
And I hate that you’ve opened me up so much,
to get me to this point,
and haven’t opened yourself up enough
to be there with me.

And I’m scared. I
think that’s why I’m so paranoid,
all the time.
Every time I think of how much I’ve given you,
because I trust you with my heart,
with my whole self,
and I’m not comfortable being that vulnerable,
and I get really scared.
I’m absolutely terrified at letting you know
just how vulnerable I am.
How scared I am.
How badly I need you.

Part of me,
the part that’s been hurt
by "best friends"
one too many times before,
is telling me, screaming at me,
to run away as fast as I can.
To run, and not think about looking back.
Go! Go. To where it’s safe.
Where there’s no risk.
Just GO.

And, to be completely honest,
I want to listen to that part.
That voice has grown quieter,
but it’s still not completely silent.
I’m still scared.
My survival instinct
is still telling me to
run for the fucking hills
as fast as fucking possible.

And I know that you don’t need me
the way that I need you?

I am strong, I am head-strong,
and very independent.
I don’t need a best friend,
no more than I need
anything else that’s superfluous.
Sure, I want another car,
more clothes, a best friend
but I don’t need one.

Or at least that’s the way I was.
After my last friendship disaster....
And then you came along...

And now I’m left wondering
who the hell I am now.
Am I still a strong, independent person?
Or have I become what I’ve always despised?
Have I become one of those people
who rely on someone else to be happy?

I want you to need me, too.
I need you to need me,
the way that I need you.

I don’t know why I wrote about this,
or where I was going with this,
or what I even hoped
to accomplish in writing this.
I guess I just needed to get it off my chest…