My greatest fear is not that I am unlovable, but rather that I am incapable of maintaining that love. That I am unable to harness the magnitude of love that I would want to wash over someone with. That I would inadvertently wash him away instead. But, perhaps, in a moment of deep reflection and jolting clarity, maybe big love is actually a great defense. Maybe big love is a great deflector. Maybe my waves are used as a deterrent rather than a grand display of adoration. Maybe my love is an undercurrent. No one wants to be involuntarily swept out to sea. No matter how beautiful the ocean is, it can still quickly turn into too much of a good thing. Perhaps the idea of so adamantly wanting to overwhelm someone with love and affection is to take the attention away from me. So that I can stand on the shore and be equally close enough and far away from everything. To a degree, maybe I was fearful of myself and of my hurricane nature. Fearful that I was a concoction of both immaculate design and inevitable destruction. Though it has never been my intention. My greatest fear is not that I am unlovable, but rather that I am uncontainable. That I am the extreme. That I don’t fall on middle grounds within the spectrum. That I would wash you away and realize it too late. That though my love is vast and plentiful, it could leave me bounded by the wrists and in a drought in the middle of myself with seemingly no way out. How can I reel myself in without leaving the truest part of myself strung out? My greatest fear is not that I am unlovable, but rather that I am unstoppable to my own detriment in the one area of my life that, for me, is most important.