There are times when I think about how you kissed me when we returned to that place which i swore never again to enter.

I want to do that again but I fear that what I may be feeling is list rather than an actual affection. No, I am fond of you. Truly and honestly and mind numbingly fond of you. I could even say that I love you. The feelings you stir up in my chest is like an amalgam of breathtaking emotions and it’s scary because I’ve never been this way when I’m with someone. It’s like everything ceases to exist and I care about only what you think and what you want us to do and I struggle against it because I refuse to be that way. I refuse to be some helpless schmuck who just follows without their own mind and disregarding their own thoughts.

This is possibly why I’m not with you; because I’m afraid.


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