**** me.
Looking back on that predeceasing story, I regret I was ever so blind. I let myself go crazy for a boy who didn't care, who cheated and left me bare in the wilderness, alone. I look back and now wish I had waited, had wished I had cursed myself for falling for another, but in some ways I don't.
**** me.
I was right to be scared of falling for him, because he didn't fall for me. And even then, I fell for a relationship, for falling in love, for the first time since I was too young to be afraid for it. I did not really love him, I loved the idea of falling in love, finally. He was not the right boy, and I not the right girl, but now I think things are different.
**** me.
Because I think I might have found my right boy, the one who I never expected. I had decided after the last to stay single, stay free, for awhile to catch my bearings, but instead I met him and began to catch feelings. I only dream that I might just be the right girl for him too.
**** me.
But don't. But do. My sexuality blossomed with change and being thrown into the fires of adulthood, but at the same time, this phrase's initial intentions do not apply anymore. I'm not angry at myself for falling, not anymore. I love this crazy boy and I accept it and even adore it.
**** me.
No, that's not what I want. I thought it was, but its not the right words. Love me, hold me, are ones much better. He not only deserves me happy but deserves me honest, and honestly I don't hate myself anymore for falling in love. I love it. Falling in love, for once, might be the best thing to happen to me. Love is my kryptonite, and finally romantics are involved in that equation.
**** me.
For ever thinking that love was something to be afraid of.
For being so stubborn.
For not opening up to the idea of  loving and being loved for so long.
For not accepting you.
But now, I open my eyes and I see.
You love me.