Today I had a little meltdown with L. I told him, “I love you and I want things to work out for us.” We talked some about my anxiety, and he suggested that I see a therapist. I know he’s right, and actually I’m glad he said it, because I want to get into therapy and I don’t want to hide it from him.
I said I want things to work out for us, and he said that he’s withdrawn into himself the last couple of years, and it might take him some time to come back out. And I asked him if there’s anything I can do to help things work out for us. He said, no, because I would be acting unnaturally and if things are meant to work out for us, then they will.
I know he’s right. But it’s so hard for the needy little kid in me, who just wants to feel loved and safe and secure.