Conversations on conversation

In nearly every conversation I have now, there is the element of fear. I speak about my interests and desires, my past and present. I share my work and my self with anyone that expresses genuine interest.

The fear of rejection, of pushing away those I find alluring are present during. But while we’re talking it’s like a exhibitionist high, or the submissive float. I say whatever I desire, engage in wordplay and generally have fun.

But after, it’s like an adrenaline crash. I shake and fear that what I said, while truthful, will push away someone who could be an amazing relationship but won’t be because I pushed too far, too fast in the tumultuous rush of my Rollercoaster of conversation.

And it’s hard to admit to this fear. I control my self, my emotional reactions. But no matter what I do, this fear is present. It doesn’t stop me. In a way, it pushes me forward. But I can’t seem to shake it. For someone who lives so much in his head, conversation is my way of sharing my world. But after I do, I want nothing more than to have and be held. A physical balm for the emotional tumult.

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