My friend Ethan tells me not to get my hopes up too high because I don't want a repeat of the last time. I know he's right. The last time I put just a little more love than I should've and I cared just a little more than normal. But this boy is different I swear to him. He's mature and not awkward, plus he's got experience. But I know deep down that he's probably just the same. And that at the end of all this I will be crying on the cold floor of my bathroom, throwing up just to avoid the near occasion of bumping into him. Like it did last time, and the time before. I pray for a sign begging God to PLEASE SHOW ME IF THIS IS WRONG. And maybe He does. But my heart shaped glasses are too ******* dark for me to even realize it. But I know deep down that I do see it and accepting that is too hard so i lie to myself. Because i want it so bad to be real. I imagine kissing him as I press my ever so ****** lips across my hand. I imagine him hugging me every time the sweat breaks out during my panic attacks. I want so badly to be his. And so badly do I want him to be mine. I tell my friends I'm okay. Swear that I won't fall to hard and let this hurt me again. But everyone knows that I fall fast and hard. My hopeless conversations are just an attempt for love. Like a mating call a bird makes but is more like a call into the distance because nobody hears. I feel so pathetic, lying to myself and hoping i guessed right. My stomach is sick and I haven't slept much. Love makes me sick. But maybe it's the thought that I've dug myself into a hole that only ends with lava. A self destruction mission and I just pushed the button. I started a game I can't end. A game I know all to well. And even if I tell myself i wouldn't, I will get hurt.