Stop Acting Like That

You tell me

I’m too sensitive.

That I overreact.

That I take things “the wrong way.”

But somehow,

when you explode,

when you scream,

slam doors,

and fill the room with chaos,

it’s just you

“expressing yourself.”

You let it out in thunder.

You expect me

to absorb the storm

and never complain

about the flooding.

But the second

I ask for stillness,

the moment I reach for quiet,

just one breath of peace—

You say,

“ Stop acting like that.”

You want peace

on your terms.

You want silence

only when it silences me.

You want understanding

that doesn’t ask you

to understand.

But what you call peace

has never been mine.

It’s been surrender.

It’s been tiptoes.

It’s been me,

dimming myself

just to keep your sky from falling.

I’m tired.

Tired of bending

until my bones ache

to meet your needs.

Tired of smiling

through my own unraveling

just to protect

your fragile reflection.

Tired of being punished

for holding you

to the promises

you made.

Tired of weighing every word

against your temper.

Of choosing quiet

over truth.

I’m tired of this.

Of you.

Of me.

Of the version of me

that keeps making herself smaller

so you can feel whole.

Of the girl

who loves you so much

she forgets how to love herself.

Of the woman

trying to stitch together a future

that maybe — just maybe,

needs to be torn apart.

I want out.

I do.

But I’m afraid.

Afraid of facing the world alone.

Afraid of grocery store lines

and car trouble

and holidays

without a buffer.

Because you;

you’ve always been my shield

from the sharp edges of life.

You carried the fear

I didn’t know how to hold.

And I let you.

I needed you.

We were teenagers,

fused together by survival.

By love.

By fear.

We faced the world as one.

But being with you

has always meant

I couldn’t be

just me.

So what now?

What do I choose?

Do I walk forward,

unsteady and unsure,

but finally

mine?

Do I pick up my voice

from the floor

and speak

without asking permission?

Or do I fold again,

into the comfort of being erased,

And stop—

“acting like that?”