When Love Asks for More Than I Can Give

So… I’ve been having my brutal headaches again, and yesterday they became almost unbearable. Still, the whole point of these ten-minute morning writing sessions is to guarantee that I meet myself, at least for ten minutes a day. So here I am, in front of a blank page, trying to understand why my body is speaking so loudly, and what it’s trying to tell me.

Well, I know the reason. I’ll spare the details to protect someone’s privacy, but let’s just say, I had a very, VERY, difficult and uncomfortable conversation yesterday. It was with someone I love so much, yet I’m not sure they feel the same. They asked me to do something I can’t do. I tried to explain, but my words fell on deaf ears and were met with a flood of counterarguments. Eventually, I postponed my answer and said I’d get back to them during the weekend.

It feels so heavy, and my head pounds with every heartbeat, a physical echo of the emotional weight I’m carrying. There are so many emotions. There’s fear of disappointing them, sadness at what I saw on their face, and anger that they didn’t see mine. And I feel frustrated that I don’t know what to do. So much. Too much, actually.

Feeling this physical pain makes me so regretful that I’ve failed my body again, ignoring its needs and putting it in such a state, that I find myself thinking: If I could remove every fear of disappointing someone, what would I do differently tomorrow?

Wow. What an amazing life that would be.