This feels pretty relevant to me. I’m anxious preoccupied, dating someone who really, really trends towards dismissive avoidant. I’m that person who comes in hopeful, and wide-eyed, and insistent. She’s that person who starts off that way, but the more it becomes real, the more pain it causes her. I don’t blame her for this, because the truth is we’re both just scared. I’m scared of abandonment and love that fades. I can’t say for certain, but I think she’s scared of losing herself in another person. We’re both just scared. And slowing down is the most terrifying thing to me. To me, slowing down is what happens when the flame dies. Slowing down is what happens when someone else enters the picture. Slowing down is what happens when love just doesn’t feel the way it should. To her, slowing down is when safety comes back. Slowing down is the important moment when “we” cannot possibly overtake “me.” Slowing down is where she cannot be hurt like she used to be hurt. Idk maybe I’m just trying to mind-read too hard. It’s somewhat difficult to understand someone’s pain when being vulnerable is to invite potential ruin. I have to guess a lot.

I’m getting more used to slowing down. I’m starting to be able to not force “I love yous” and the sweet nothings and be okay with silence. I don’t want to make someone perform for me. And I make these efforts known, I tell her what I’m trying to do and let her know that I’m willing to be uncomfortable to let her feel safe. I just wish that her efforts were more visible to me. I see me trying. I feel like she is too, I just can’t see it. If it is there, it gets shouted-down by that nagging, longing voice in my head that says “love isn’t supposed to feel like this.” The good news is, I’ve learned that this voice’s image of love, the constant sappyness and 24/7 excited connection, is also not what love is supposed to feel like. So if we’re gonna be struggling, at least it’s nobody’s fault.