The truth is I’m scared.
Of missing out.
Of losing control.
Of hurting.
Of happiness.
I’m scared of myself.
For being not good enough
For being controlling
For having too much emotional baggage
For leading you on
For lying to myself
For not knowing who I really am
For not knowing who I want to be
You see the beginning,
The letters
The notes
The longing glances
The stolen kisses
The warm embrace
The intimate touches
While I predict the end.
And it scares me
How much I can hurt you
How much I can hurt myself
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