I guess it goes without saying that it's because of love. But I realized today, as I walked into the shower, that I didn't want to break up because of fear. I'm scared. I'm scared of possibilities. I'm scared of what ifs.
What if we broke up and later on you met someone and fell in love and your timing was right?
I don't want to think. Honestly. It was going so well. So fucking well. Until, this morning, I woke up, and all of a sudden I was sad again. So I worked hard to distract myself all day, just to keep you off my head. I didn't want to think of you. I didn't want to want to see you, to want to hold your hand, to want to talk to you. But I did anyway.
It's so stupid.
And I know you don't like it when I think of these things. You don't like it when I hurt because of the things I load into my mental freight train. I know you want me to learn to control my emotions. And I am. Slowly. A little surely.
But, you know, sometimes, I wish you'd help. I keep listening for the sound of the telephone, wondering if you'd ever call. I keep checking for messages. I keep waiting for an invitation.
But this is a choice I've made. And I swore to myself I'll be the one to stay until you don't.
And I will.
I'm a coward and I'm sorry. But this is the bravest I could be right now. And excuse me for being emotional. It's not like I can't help it.
Good night. I love you.
