Instinct. The thing that drives a human being, at least, at the base level. The impulses that nature instilled in you to protect you from the environment. However, most of these drives control our actions in a negative way, from a social standpoint.
I’d like to take some time to discuss one of my personal struggles between the ability to trust, and the necessity to cling. It’s a struggle, really, between the intellectual concept of trust and the instinctual need to cling to things.
If you love someone, you’re supposed to be able to trust them. But I find that for myself, the more I love someone, the harder it is to trust them. And I say this because the more I love someone, the more that makes me vulnerable. The more something makes you feel vulnerable, the harder it is to put yourself out there to be vulnerable. It’s hard. It’s hard to trust someone with your heart. It’s hard to say “I trust you not to hurt me, because you entirely have my life in your hands…”
At some point, the vulnerability will cause your self-preservation instincts to kick in. What does this mean? You’re going to be motivated to do absolutely everything you can to keep from losing it. You’re officially becoming more and more like a cornered animal. Your clinging instinct just sort of kicks in.
I know I’m clingy. I know I’m needy. Those are my vices. But my vices don’t define what kind of person I am. How I act in reference to my vices is the true test of my character.
I try my hardest to trust people. The hardest thing in the world for me to do is to trust someone when I don’t have semi-regular reassurance in their trustworthiness. I know that clinging is bad and I do everything in my power to trust instead of cling.
Sometimes I fail. I wish I could be perfect, but I’m not. I never will be perfect, but my only hope is that those around me who I love will understand that I try to be a better person because of them.
I’m sorry when I’m a bad friend. | 
