She daydreamed of a man that she could one day say to, “I’ve never felt this way with any man. I’ve always been afraid that I wouldn’t be accepted.
That I’d be neglected at the first moment I was found to be imperfect. So I would gather up what I considered to be the ugly parts of myself and hide them as deeply as possible.
I wanted to do that with you, but something between us blocked it. I don’t want to lose you, but I’m no longer afraid to be me. You make my soul feel safe, and that’s scary.
I hate being naked, like my soul is exposed. But you make it okay.”
—Treka L. House