invisible monsters

I just want you to know, I won't go on without you.

Your words are echoing in my head. They're comforting. They're loving. They're kind.
I wonder if you know yet.

I only know which way to go because I found you.

I'm trying so hard to figure this out. But I don't feel at home.
Not in either of my homes.
Maybe they are simply cases that I put my things in.
A dry place to sleep.
But there is no comfort in any of these places.
I'm trying to immerse myself in your arms, to call them home.
But I'm having a hard time.
I feel content with you, with your arms around me.
I feel safer than I do when I'm alone.
But there is that lingering feeling that tells me to run.
Or slow down.
Or step back.
To do something other than what I'm doing.
What I'm doing is letting it happen.
Taking a chance.
Risking it all.
You reassure me that you're not going anywhere.
And I'm not scared of you leaving.
I'm scared of me leaving.

When you understand that what you're telling is just a story. It isn't happening anymore. When you realize the story you're telling is just words, when you can just crumble it up and throw your past in the trashcan, then we'll figure out who you're going to be.