iv. insecurities in love

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//copyright © Tanya Mishra, teaniksa, 2022. All rights reserved. //

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Dedicated to all those who are haunted by their minds and insecurities. Don't believe the bullshit your overthinking mind throws at you. You are loved.

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Her Mīmāṃsā of

"insecurities in love"

I

hate myself. I am pathetic. Every time you say you find someone beautiful, and appealing, it burns my heart. The mere momentarily thought even that the shimmers in your eyes are wantful of someone else, the blurred idea that you could seek somebody who I am not, it scars me, it pains me. You cause my body to ache with jealousy, whose sharp bitterness matches no other pain.

I

am broken. No more the self-confident and chatty little girl, no more carefree and prideful. Since the horrifying past started to haunt my mind and overtook upon all that I, somehow, was clinging to. I am lost, and shattered. Not even a gossamer is left for me to hold upon. You know not, I found I was never so confident in myself. Always, so insecure. You, maybe not knowingly, make me feel so unworthy.

I

am desperate to be loved. I want to be cared for, and feel like I deserve it. You know not, you could never understand. For once, not for how beautiful I am or I may not be, for not the numerous talents I have, for not so frivolous and talented I could be or not. For me. For only because you love me. But I always feel like you don't. My mind keeps nagging, no one does.

I

aspire death. After I gave my heart to you, I hoped you would be careful to hold it. You were not. You, maybe unknowingly, crush it into your hands. And I am left sauntering while sabotaging myself. Every time I ask, my beloved, you say you love me. You feel hurt I question your love for me. But my moiety, I never feel loved by you.

I,

maybe, am unworthy. I seek so much love, so much reassurance which you give me not. And it is none your mistake and I am so sorry, my love, for running away. For closing off every time something hurts my heart. What do I do? My mind screeches into silence, I sink into a black hole, all lights and all warmth leaves me. Empty.

I

am a hypocrite. I bluff, I am a liar. I say I don't care about things which, in harsh shameless truth, have me driven insane, marks my mind bitter, and have my heart painstakingly crushed. I am a coward, I run away. Every time fear dominates me and insecurities grab me by the throat, I either bear a cloak of anger, which is me, being disgusted with myself. Or I hide. No one sees and, no one knows. I cry oceans and choke blood.

I

feel like I can't be saved. My eyes prick to cry, my heart is sinking. Is this the pain of heartbreak? Oh how sin sounds sweeter this moment, death would taste delicious. But I don't die. This would kill me, it drives me crazy. I am so derailed, so broken, so devastated. Agony and insecurities never allow me to believe. Overthinking has me declared undeserving.

I

am woebegone. I felt hopeless, but then a shimmer coming from you instilled a scintilla of faith in me, which seems to go blur now. Again. You felt like my only hope. My saviour. Then, you, who I have given myself to, if you seem to want someone I am not, I feel desolate. I am hurting myself. I know, I must not rely on you, or any, to love me.

I

am an idiot, you must think. And I promise, I do not want to be this (pathetic?) myself. But melancholy captures me and, sadness has me in its grasp always. At the stroke of sharpness my throat lies. Fear haunts me; oh how I had been used, discarded, and distorted. Always the second choice. I do not want to remember, but I never forget.

I

am sick, I feel. I need help, I know and this is another curse. I feel lost; sinking, sinking. There they remain, always; the horrors of my mind, the deafening silence that keeps screaming. Ugh!! Love and it seems, it can save me. If you realise, as I do and it's so loathsome, it is less of jealousy and more of those petty (painstaking and hauntingly delirious) insecurities my mind throws at me. Maybe, I am not made for love. Maybe, love is not made for me.

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I promise this is not me, this is my mind screaming!! Ugh, bitch!

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love,
Tanya.

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