I am in a relationship with you. I love you, so I allow you in a place where I am most vulnerable. My exposure lies in the core of my emotional existence. When I allow you in, and you say or do something that creates pain for me, it feels like a two edge sword has gone through my heart. One of the two edges is me giving you access to my heart the other edge is you actually using the knife.
The pain ignites my anger. I am angry at you, because you were too careless, maybe even too stupid to treat my heart with nothing but love. I am also angry at myself, because I allowed you in. Now I am fearful to trust you with my heart again. I am left to question myself as to why I trusted you.
Just like I would cut off my right arm before I allow any harm to come to my child — that same protection and passion I have used in caring for your heart. You executed the pain I have worked so hard to protect you from.
When I approach you, the words come hard and fast. Do not be offended. My argument is telling the relationship you have caused me pain. When I talk to you, do not defend yourself. I understand you do not want to be wrong. I understand you do not want to be less than perfect. It is not about you right now. It is because of you right now.
Understand my anger. I am strong, so I need you to see the unseen tears, as I hold them back while I try to explain to you how I feel, because the pain I feel is speaking more words than I can ever say. The heart bears no threshold to layers of pain, so there are depths you cannot see in the words I say.
If you tell me you did not know how much I love you, therefore you did not know where you were in my heart—that may be somewhat reassuring. I am not sure why you did not know. My words of love, the deeds I do for you, and the responses I give to you are all indicators of where you are in me, and who you are to me. Weren’t you listening?
How do we move forward? Take great care to open your heart—to heal mine. Expose yourself to balance my exposure. Put your heart in the place of mine and feel my pain. The pain you caused me to feel, allow it to attack your core, because this may be the teacher of remembrance, so you will never put me at risk again.
You say, “I am your woman.” You say, “I am your man.” Perhaps the value of possession should be placed more in owning and taking responsibility of my heart, rather than my body or the icon of me you say you own.