Hey, old friend. You might be surprised that I’m writing you like this, since you and I are rarely apart and you’ve been a piece of me for ages.
However, I’m not sure about the first time I met you. I can’t tell how, when, and why you entered my life.
All I know is that not a single date exists in my memory without you being the third wheel.
I can’t remember any of my romantic relationships of which you weren’t a part, including those in my teenage years.
Let’s face it, you’ve made my life hell harder. But with time, I got used to you and even accepted you to a certain extent.
Nevertheless, it doesn’t mean I like you. It doesn’t mean that I’m comfortable with all of these fears and overthinking you’re causing.
After all, who would be happy having a little voice in the back of their head all the time? A little voice telling them that things will play out in the worst possible case scenario and that nothing will work out for them.
First, it starts when I meet a new guy.
Does he really like me? Or is he maybe just messing with me?
Perhaps he had a bet with his friends about whether he’ll be able to score my number? Maybe he’s trying to get to my friend through me?
Because who would like me? Who would be genuinely interested in me?
And most importantly, why? What does this guy see in me?
After you allow me to somehow advance from this initial stage, the struggle continues.
How should I respond to his text? How will I answer his phone call without my voice trembling?
How can I hide the fact that I’m terrified of something so ordinary and everyday like going out on a date?
Naturally, the first date is a real nightmare. I’m not just talking about some random stuff that goes through almost every girl’s mind when she’s about to go out with a guy for the first time, like what she should wear or whether she’ll like him.
No, I’m talking about real panic attacks that stop me from functioning properly. I’m talking about the fact that I feel like someone is forcing me to go out with this guy I’m really attracted to.
Will he stand me up? Will we spend the entire evening in uncomfortable silence?
Will he be disappointed in the way I look? Will he notice that I have trouble breathing and that my palms are sweating all the time?
Once I manage to enter a relationship (which rarely happens), that’s when my real battles start and when I notice that everything up to that point was just a piece of cake.
What if he grows tired of me? What if he’s still thinking about his ex?
What if I’m not good enough in bed? What if he’s just playing with me?
Does he love me or he is only pretending? Am I too needy?
Why did he kiss me differently this morning? Why isn’t he holding my hand right now?
Is he getting colder? Or am I imagining things?
Does he want to end things but can’t find a way to do so? Is he staying with me out of pity?
Am I desperate for giving too much of myself? Should I show less emotions?
Did he say “I love you” because it was time or did he really feel it? Would he care if he lost me?
Sounds pretty exhausting, right? Well, this is just the tip of the iceberg and something I’ve been living with ever since I can remember.
However, this isn’t only a hate letter for everything you’re putting me through. Believe it or not, I also want to thank you.
Thank you for all those times you chased away the men who couldn’t handle me at my worst, showing me that they didn’t deserve my best either.
For all those times you saved me from those superficial fuckboys who didn’t even try looking past my trauma. For every time my overthinking and not wanting to rush things helped me avoid guys who only wanted to get me in bed.
Thank you for being my shield and my defense mechanism from all the men who don’t deserve to meet the real me.
Thank you for giving me this strong intuition that enables me to sense bad intentions a mile away. For not allowing me to jump from one relationship to another and making me wait for the right guy to come.
A guy who will see that I’m much more than my anxiety. A guy who will be patient enough to uncover the layers of my personality. The guy who will love me for who I am.