Call it whatever you want…

I know every possible love story that may be told. I can predict the endings. I’m good with that; at least my friends say I am. I just can’t see my own ending, and that’s why I’m terrified. I’m terrified to have to listen to someone who loves me so much and having to be so terrified at the same because he’s the only person in my life who I know can give up on me at any minute. I’m terrified of the fact that I’m so happy that I don’t even deserve it. I’m terrified because I know I get bored too easily, and I find someone else, then I regret things, then I get mad at everyone. I’m terrified to say those four lettered word because of the commitment that it involves, the giving that it needs. I’m terrified of having a good chance in being “the girl who you just once knew”. I’m terrified of hurting someone who doesn’t deserve to get hurt. I’m terrified to ask for your parents’ or children’s approval. I’m terrified of your past that I can never compare to. I’m terrified of filling the holes that in reality, I can’t mend. I’m terrified of thinking how to make this work. I’m terrified of myself. I’m terrified of what fate might bring. I’m terrified of having to think that you might be the last guy I wake up to. I’m terrified of having to wonder where he is. I’m terrified to trust someone so much. I’m terrified of someone trusting me so much. Call it whatever you want, “confessions of a flirt” might work. Most of all…

“I don’t love you anymore.”

I’m terrified to have to say it, and to have to hear it.

And I’m sorry.