I Was Afraid

November 27, 2014
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I was afraid of the way I felt around you. It was the first time my chest grew tight and I finally understood the meaning of weak knees. The sight of you felt like someone had shot me in the stomach but instead of killing me it made me feel more alive. I was afraid that if you came too close, you could hear the pounding sound of my aching heart, and you’d know. I was afraid you’d hear what yearning sounded like or how badly I wanted you. I was afraid that if I spoke to you I would shatter with embarrassment or you wouldn’t satisfy me with your reaction. Really, I was just scared of the way you’d feel about the way I felt about you. And then I slowly began to act as though you were the one who wanted me, and I didn’t so much as even care. I didn’t care at all. And that is how I knew that you didn’t care about me. You didn’t even think of me. So I told myself that I am better than this. I am not scared of you. I should not pursue a love that frightens me to death in which it causes me sickness. I should pursue a love that frightens me to death in which it gives me a reason to live.

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