I can feel the fear settling in once again.
The fear of disappointing someone,
The fear of setting expectations from anyone; and
The fear of concealing emotions through a mask.

To care, to bear, to be wary.
To care like it means the whole world to you while losing yourself in the process;
To bear the things you are not capable of for the sake of saving people.
To be worn out because you are aware that you have tried love so many times — and now, once again — albeit sometimes wasted or probably taken for granted in the end.

To love, to depend, to hold.
The fear of loving someone so much you could barely breathe;
The fear of depending and planning and dreaming.
The fear of love giving false hopes;
The fear of being so attached to those who might be emotionally unavailable.

My thoughts are a mess; I am a mess.
I am afraid — but perhaps that is a good thing.
Because maybe, just maybe, this is an indication that once again,
I have allowed myself to be vulnerable and break down my walls.
What once was cold is now frightened to be shrouded by the warmth of light.
To accept and learn love no matter how complicated it is;
And no matter how painful the fear that comes with it.
To question the emotions rushing through my heart and head.
To take on the irrationalities and unpredictability of that thing called love.

While I am dancing to this series of the unknown,
Perhaps I should be grateful because of this fear.
This fear that I try to avoid all the time,
Is proof and one of the few things that remind me I am alive.

I am afraid because I am alive.
I am afraid because of love.
Is it safe to assume that somehow, I feel alive… because of love?




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An eccentric, vulnerable, and crappy damsel blessed with a resting bitch face.