Heavy thoughts

I keep circling the same thought, and it’s eating at me.

If someone looks at the risk they’d have to take and decides I’m not worth it… what does that say about me?

I know I made mistakes. I’ve replayed them enough to know where I fell short, where I scared someone, where I didn’t show up the way I wish I had. I take responsibility for that.

But I can’t stop questioning is whether I was ever enough to begin with.

Because when someone tells you they have too much on the line, what you hear is that you’re what might make them lose it. That you’re the gamble. The thing that could ruin everything.

And that’s a heavy thing to sit with.

I keep wondering if love is only available to people who don’t make mistakes, who don’t wobble, who don’t come with intensity or mess or learning curves.

I don’t know… I don’t want to shrink this into “I wasn’t good enough” because that feels easier than holding the truth, which is messier and lonelier: sometimes someone can care deeply and still walk away.

I’m trying to sit with the grief without turning it into a verdict on my worth. Some days I succeed. Some days I don’t.