Another Dream. Another Nightmare.

When I smile, I’m afraid to frown.
When I laugh, I’m afraid to cry.

When I hug you, I’m afraid to one day get rejected.
When I care for you, I’m afraid for the day you’ll be gone.

Within my guarded walls I look out to the world around me, always self-conscious and fearful. I always have given so much; I always gave my all but, in return, I got my payments in pain and sorrow. Experience after experience, I found my life constantly revolving around the mere concepts of masks and reputation. I was always told:

Everyone in your life is in it simply to use you, to gain something for themselves.

Which soon got followed by:

They are only being nice to you so you will ____ for them.
They only hang out with you because they know you come from a wealthy family.
They only want your money, your help, etc.
In the end, they will never do anything for you out of “the kindness of their heart” because that doesn’t happen, it doesn’t exist.

For the entirety of my life, and still now, I got told many varieties of these statements. I got the idea that people are only in my life to use me jammed into my head, my heart, whether I wanted it or not. And not long after, I had come to accept this way of thinking without even knowing it.

But whenever someone comes around and acts a little different, is a little more gentle, a little more considerate,  a little more understanding, and a little more patient with me, I get excited. I start to think, “Maybe this one is different.” They keep up the attitude with me and slowly gain my trust. I slowly start to let them in, always thinking that they were different from the others beforehand. I’d come to think, “Maybe I had it wrong, and I just needed to give another a chance.” I get happy.

Then everything crashes down.

Betrayal. Backstabbing. Lies. Attitude changes. Abuse. You name it.

A dream becomes a nightmare. The person I had ended up putting so much of my heart in now wasn’t the person I once knew, or thought I knew. The life I once loved is now a life I don’t want to live.

Maybe it’s that I get my hopes up too fast to find someone who will prove to me that humanity is truly different from those statements I was taught at such a young age. Maybe it’s that I give almost everyone a chance who proves themselves a little different, who gives me even the slightest spec of hope, without needing much time or thought. Maybe it’s that I still believe I live in a fairytale where a wonderful prince will come sweep me off my feet, carry me out of my conflicted life, and make everything seem alright again.

Maybe one day I will find that one man for me.

But until then, I’m scared.

I’m scared that every chance of a dream coming true will turn into a nightmare that was worse than the last. 


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