I know I’m sick.  I have Borderline Personality Disorder. I know the way I feel and the way I see things is distorted and broken up. I feel disturbed and like there’s no end in sight, because when it rains it pours and it feels like I haven’t seen the sun in weeks. But I know, somewhere, that I am so much stronger and brighter than this. 

I made a mistake when I built my life around a person. I made an even bigger mistake when I built my home inside him. 

He left me and I’ve been constantly on edge. I have been afraid everyday for almost three years that he would abandon me and I would be left alone in the echoes of my own mind, that he would disappear and I’d have to face the emptiness of my hollow chest. 

We still occupy the same space, still live in the same home. He moved into the room across the hall, and the person I love the most in the entire world is suddenly a stranger to me. He speaks to me in this hollow, detached voice, approaches me like a wild and unpredictable animal. It’s hard to remember how tender his eyes used to be when all I see is this dark place, this unfamiliar space between. 

I’m in love with him and I know he’s in love with me, and it’s unfair for me to be so selfish when I know he wants to get better for himself before he can commit himself to anyone again. Because sometimes love gets in the way of building yourself up. God, I know all of this on paper in the same logical way an equation unfolds. But the corners of my mind are so different at night, alone in my brain. It is so hard to remember these things when my chest aches and my hands shake because I haven’t eaten because I’m not hungry. 

When I built my home inside him it did nothing but create the possibility of homelessness, and I ache to come home. I can’t see a sunny outcome on days when the rain pounds against the ground and it’s dark even at noon. I know it’s mostly in my head. I’m sorry. Thank you. I’ll get better. 