(This is truth week on the Crusade. I figure that this is the perfect prompt for where I’m at, so I’m making it truth week here as well.)
I’m afraid I’m going to lose you.
To fear, to guilt, to regret.
I’m afraid you’ll take back everything you’ve said.
Take back the love you’ve confessed.
Take back those eyes that see only me.
I’m terrified that I’ve invested in someone fleeting.
That soon the moments we’ve shared, the breathless encounters, will be nothing more than a memory of what could have been.
The uncertainty kills me.
I have no control over what you will choose.
Or how you come to that conclusion.
And it’s unsettling to be on the waiting side of it.
Because I love you.
I’ve given a lot.
And I trust you.
But you might take that away.
And it scares me.
Because I can’t even tell you this.
Because I don’t want to influence you.
So I’m on my own, waiting through this pain.
Through this fear.
And then what I feared came true.