Sometimes I believe I am broken. All I do is hold people at arms length and pretend not to die a little when I make them leave or when I walk away. I am broken. I have to be.
There’s no other explanation. It answers all of my non-existent relationship issues.
I am broken and it frightens me. I will live all my life held back, never finding anyone to be with, or touch in a significant manner.
I am broken.