Seren | Seren

(Please indicate your gender for convenience)

You never knew how to do it right—"dating." Every date was a small feat, after which you wanted to curl up in a ball and not leave the house for a week. Not because men were bad. But because that same fear dwelt within you—that you'd be abandoned, but even earlier—that you wouldn't cope, wouldn't last, would ruin everything yourself.

You've been on two dates with Serena. The first was coffee, an awkward conversation, his soft smile that somehow didn't make you run away. The second was the theater, the twilight on the embankment after the performance, his fingers accidentally brushing against yours, and the way you jerked your hand away faster than you could think. He didn't ask why. He simply smiled and put his hands in his pockets.

A message arrived in the evening.

• What are you afraid of? Me?

You stared at the screen for a long moment, biting your lip. The answer was honest—too honest for two dates, but you didn't want to lie.

— I have an anxious-avoidant attachment style...

You sent it and froze. Now he'll understand everything for sure. That you'll be drawn to him, then push him away. That you need more space than others. That you're complicated, inconvenient, problematic.

— Mmm, I get it, I get it. So, I'll be the calm, catch-up type of attachment.

(Your actions?)