[another beat, and Mars curls his free arm against the table and presses his face against it as he lets go of whatever he was holding back on the buddy bond. and suddenly there’s a flood of absolute terror, the kind that petrifies a person in place and freezes the blood in their veins like ice. it washes over the bond like a rush of cold water, and it’s all directed at one complex web of issues]
[a fear of attachment. a fear of emotional intimacy. a fear of forming bonds, a fear of losing them again, doubt on whether the warmth of a connection is worth the pain of loss and whether the pain of loneliness is really worse than the pain of losing someone you care about]
And they tell you that you don’t have anything to worry about. That they’re going to care about you no matter what. That they’re not going anywhere, that nobody can live free of connections no matter how hard they try, that you’re stupid for trying to keep people at an arm’s length. And it isn’t that you disagree with them, but you can’t help but feel like they don’t quite understand how instinctual it is, and you can’t really explain it ‘cause you don’t have the memories that help you understand why you’re like this. You just know that you are, and every day you’re trying to be better, but no matter how hard you try some part of your heart is always afraid anyway and you know that’s just how it’s gonna be.
[a pause. . .]
I don’t mean to shove all of the emptional competency onto someone else. I get that other people have trouble with feelings, too. It’s not just an issue I have. But—
[. . .]
I’m afraid of fucking up because I self-sabotage in an attempt to protect myself, ‘cause that’s what my instincts tell me to do.
no subject
[hunches his shoulders a bit and nods]
. . . yeah.
[another beat, and Mars curls his free arm against the table and presses his face against it as he lets go of whatever he was holding back on the buddy bond. and suddenly there’s a flood of absolute terror, the kind that petrifies a person in place and freezes the blood in their veins like ice. it washes over the bond like a rush of cold water, and it’s all directed at one complex web of issues]
[a fear of attachment. a fear of emotional intimacy. a fear of forming bonds, a fear of losing them again, doubt on whether the warmth of a connection is worth the pain of loss and whether the pain of loneliness is really worse than the pain of losing someone you care about]
And they tell you that you don’t have anything to worry about. That they’re going to care about you no matter what. That they’re not going anywhere, that nobody can live free of connections no matter how hard they try, that you’re stupid for trying to keep people at an arm’s length. And it isn’t that you disagree with them, but you can’t help but feel like they don’t quite understand how instinctual it is, and you can’t really explain it ‘cause you don’t have the memories that help you understand why you’re like this. You just know that you are, and every day you’re trying to be better, but no matter how hard you try some part of your heart is always afraid anyway and you know that’s just how it’s gonna be.
[a pause. . .]
I don’t mean to shove all of the emptional competency onto someone else. I get that other people have trouble with feelings, too. It’s not just an issue I have. But—
[. . .]
I’m afraid of fucking up because I self-sabotage in an attempt to protect myself, ‘cause that’s what my instincts tell me to do.