I was confident we could be human together. The messy, sometimes sad, tangled in our thoughts humans that we both are. She wondered if together we are too much. If one day, when we both happen to be to be down, perhaps we will stay down. The strength to lift the other up might vanish and we might fall apart together. I felt the need to defend myself. Remind her I am strong, resilient and have seen dark spells on my own and was able to pull myself out of those moods and be there for others at the same time. But I felt weak in that moment. Not because I truly believed I was. I was trying to convince someone I love of something I thought she already knew. I felt not enough in her eyes. Not cut out for her. Not man enough, as a sensitive woman. Not able to hold and protect her the way she craves. Would she prefer more of a stoic brute who doesn’t feel so deeply? Who could hold her pain quietly while stuffing his own down, until it emerged in uglier ways? Her doubts ignited my fire to prove myself, my worth, my strength, but her hesitation clung to me anyway in a dull, aching way.