Not this again. It’s so scary. Letting someone in. Letting them see inside you. Letting them see beneath your cracked exterior. Letting them become a witness to such a catastrophe you have become. Inscribed on each rib are all your flaws. Carefully etched in someone else’s handwriting are all the things you could have done better to get them to stay. All the things they wished you were. All the things you just couldn’t be.
In the end there doesn’t have to be anyone who understands you. There just has to be someone who wants to.