Yesterday I reacted poorly, and was unnecessarily defensive. It pisses me off. It pisses me off that what he did is still affecting me. That thanks to his damage I am now less than. Less than kind, less than trusting, less than I was. Less alive. It’s not about the other man, it’s about me. This guy is sweet, and he says things that make me laugh, make me feel like me again, alive again. But as soon as I feel threatened, the walls want to go up. I want to wrap myself in armor, I want to be protected. But there is no threat, there’s no danger, just a man expressing his opinions and I’m going to ruin it because I’m afraid. Because someone made me afraid. I’ve survived too much to have such a small, insignificant person have such an impact on my life. He’s taken enough from me, he doesn’t get my fucking future happiness. Wasn’t almost killing me enough?