What I wanted to tell you was how damaged I am. I wanted to tell you where that scar was from, why I don't walk over grates, why I change the radio every time that song plays.
What I wanted to tell you was I fall apart often and in private. I wanted to tell you my past haunts me, my present makes me happy, and my future frightens me. I wanted to tell you I'm a lot stronger than all the things that have made me weak, and that I don't do things for you, but for myself.
What I wanted to tell you was nothing is ever like what it seems. I wanted tell you that you had only seen the tip of the ice burg, and the monstrosity that is below will shake the foundation of my life.
What I wanted to tell you was that I wish you had been there. I wish you had come to me and held my hand, and that I hadn't had to sit alone and wait. I wanted to tell you that I've thought about it so many times, how different it would've been if you had been there. I wanted to tell you that I know you would've been if I had known you.
What I wanted to tell you is you deserve better. I wanted to tell you I adore the way you still make me nervous and the way you still hold my hand, I wanted to tell you I'm afraid I'll never be what you want, what you need. I wanted to tell you I love you.
What I wanted to tell you happened 9 years ago. I wanted to tell you the way it hurt me, the way it hurt my relationships with people, the way people ignored it. I wanted to tell you why I worry about my future children and why things are the way they are.
What I wanted to tell you was something I only ever told one other person. I wanted to tell you one of my biggest secrets, one that literally unraveled me and I'm still picking myself up. I wanted to tell you these things because carrying the burden alone has become a lot.
What I wanted to tell you was that it's what you aren't saying that is speaking the loudest, and what I wanted to tell you was that I can't take the screaming anymore.