They called me the problem…
too anxious, too bitchy,
or simply too much.

Too much.
I was too much.

Too giving, too willing,
too eager to let my boundaries
be crushed beneath their heels.

I allowed it all.
Took it all before their yells
could reach my heart,
for it was loud enough
to shatter our glass house.

That’s what it was,
a glass house I lived in,
trapped in fragile walls
that broke as I tried to repair them.

And silly me,
giving everything to something
that never wanted to be whole. Because that hurt was worth something,
Something far greater
than they could ever be.