I hear, see, observe the same thing.
On girls who are in love, in clouds.
On girls whose boys are not serious, too young.
On girls who have been in one relationship, for one month, for one moment.
To cure the disease that is doubt, perhaps.
Promises, like legal contracts, are only necessary when they are broken.
I’m fairly certain you will leave.
My brain has convinced me that I don’t have what it takes to make you stay.
It has made me believe that one day, you’ll wake up and realize that I am not worth it: not worth your time, your effort, your love.
You’ll walk away, you won’t look back, you’ll find happiness.
I don’t know why I am certain of this.
You have done absolutely nothing to make me believe the things that my brain has made me believe.
You have been so kind, understanding, and patient.
That’s why I keep saying, “I’m scared.”
It irritates you, every single time.
And for good reason.
But I am scared.
I am scared that I will lose you.
I’m sorry for being insecure and doubtful.
I can’t help it, I really can’t.
If you only knew what goes on in my head before I go to sleep…
I’m just scared.
I pray that you stay.