There's this constant nagging at the back of my mind reminding me that you're going to stop wanting me eventually.
Everytime we're together,
I'm just waiting for it.
I'm just waiting and thinking, "I guess today's the day,"
and nit picking at any little gesture that could possibly show your disinterest so that I could play it off by comforting myself with,
"There, just as I expected."
This is so fucking unhealthy but I can't love you like I want to because I chose not to put in my hundred percent.
My defense mechanism is on overdrive and I'm losing it because I am scared.
Because I am so fucking scared.
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