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because there was never enough, and it was an ever-present shadow darkening moments that should be bright.
Crying isn’t weak. I know this. Rationally. But I also know the world doesn’t reward tears or see emotionality as strength.
My gaze travels his body, broad and strong. It feels like that first glimpse of home after a vacation that went just a few days too long.
I told him anxiety is like whack-a-mole. Unpredictable, always waiting beneath the surface.
Acceptance is not a solution. And I want solutions. I want to be able to fix it.
She doesn’t know that my anxiety, which is sometimes high but generally managed with a generous dose of Prozac and periodic therapy sessions, is borderline debilitating right now. I’ve made sure of it.
Freya holds the world in her heart. All I’m doing is shielding her from the worst of it, compartmentalizing, so she has someone to lean into when we’re together.
It’s strange, how you can know something cognitively—that the Bergman brothers love me—but how different, how powerful it can be to be told, to feel,
This is what’s so hard to articulate to people who haven’t grown up like me. When things get difficult, I rely on myself. Because when life’s taught you that you’re the one person you can count on to survive, the thought of exposing yourself to other people when you’re at your most vulnerable feels…nearly impossible.
“But I have only so many hours, so much brain space, so much emotional bandwidth. For a short time, I’ve directed that to financial success and work, okay? I feel like I have to choose between supporting us so we can be ready for what Freya wants from me and giving Freya what she wants from me. One has to come before the other.”
“Happy? Fuck, I’m just trying to survive.”
I don’t have the safety net you all have to catch me if I fall. I never have.
“You have us.” “It’s not the same,” I mutter.
“This idea that you’re all on your own, that your financial success or failure equates to your success or failure as a man. It’s seriously damaging, and it’s the lie that an oppressive capitalist patriarchal society wants us to live enslaved to.”
me. “No matter what life brings, no matter what hardship, you will be surrounded by people who love you and are ready to help you, Aiden.
But they don’t understand what it is to feel helpless in a system that makes it so easy to fall through the cracks, what it feels like when the lights shut off and you have to scramble for resources, prove your desperation.
Love protects and provides and prepares for the worst, so when and if it comes, they’re safe.
Because I don’t know how to confess all of this to Freya, how to tell her all my fears and inadequacies and trust that won’t send her packing or giving up before we’ve even started.
“But we protect our spouses from things that cause actual harm—abuse, violence—not our inherent vulnerabilities and needs. Those are there for them to love and complement. If not,”
I need hugs like I need air. I’m overflowing with unspent love and affection
“Jesus, Freya. My life insurance policy isn’t that good.”
“What if I put it on your mind, showed you how invested I was, then I failed?” “Then you’d have pursued a dream and tried and failed and learned something, and I’d be there for you.” “Watching me fail,” he mutters. “Burdened by that.”
“But I never wanted the world, Aiden. I just wanted you.”
“Spoken like a woman who’s never been poor.”
“That Birkenstock-wearing Twister sadist is cockblocking me?”
because they have not known what I’ve known, and neither has my wife. And it’s going to stay that way.”
saying, Hey, this is the stuff of movies I watched and only ever dreamed of having. I can’t believe I’m sitting here, having a real celebratory feast!
I thought it was just me
“Romance is about the centrality of loving relationships, and it reminds us that human connection is vital to existence, rather than glorifying egoism or violence or greed. So excuse my genre for not being perfect, but let’s back the fuck up from hypocritically critiquing books that have done a lot more for humanity than slashers and circle-jerk, five-hundred-page, nihilistic tomes.”
Not everyone’s father left them. Not everyone’s questioned how lovable they are if their own flesh and blood couldn’t be bothered to stick around.
He’s shown me strength lies in how openly you bare your heart, not how deeply you guard it.
I’ve wanted him to tell me everything, to own his pain and fear, because in my mind, love’s all you need to feel safe to do that. But it’s not that easy
“She said it’s easy to tell someone they should be open about when they’re hurting, but it’s hard to do that when your pain feels shameful, or…daunting. It got me thinking about how scary failure is for you. How costly it was when you were young. Failure for you and failure for me mean very different things. I wanted you to act how I act when faced with risk, to trust me with those fears. But in the past, in your life, when you’ve felt threatened or vulnerable, you turned to yourself, to survive. Rather than remembering that, I took it personally.”
“Every day, I wake up scared that I won’t love you how you deserve to be loved.
