He’s scared of you. Not that you’re scary, but you scare the hell out of him because he’s never experienced anyone like you before. That’s a good thing. That means you’re right for him, whether ever admits it or not.
I’m sick of it; I’m sick of taking chances with my heart. I’m scared to see what I could have with you. As tears run down my cheeks, I remember what it felt like to get hurt before, and I’m so terrified that it might happen again. I know it’s no way to live if you’re living in fear, but I just don’t know how many more risks I’m willing to take.
I find myself in bouts of overwhelming sadness, filled with nostalgia. I feel as if I’m going to cry, but no tear is there to be shed. I crumble to my knees and wonder why this happens and if it will ever stop.