I’m scared to love you. I’m so scared to say sweet words genuinely. I’m so sickeningly afraid to say ‘I love you’ truly, always keeping it indirect. I want to love you, so fully and vulnerably, because I know when this is all over, when you’re tired of me and bored of the comments and quips I say, when my smile becomes bland to you, it will completely destroy me. Whenever you say something sweet and kind, whenever you make me smile, I want to cry. I feel this stabbing pain in my chest whenever I fall a little harder than before for you, because I can only imagine how devastating it will be when you finally leave. I think I’m starting to love you, though. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m a coward and I’m afraid. Because you’re perfect to me. And I don’t want myself to be hurt with how beautiful you are. But maybe here, where you’ll never hear me, can I finally let a crack appear. I love you. I think I really love you. I hope you don’t break my heart too much, because I think I really do love you.