2:20 on a Sunday afternoon, and I am afraid. I am afraid I'll one day forget the way this song moves me, the way it grasps my heart with invisible hands and pulls it out of my chest, past my mouth, past my head, leaving my mind perplexed and dizzy.

I am afraid you are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me and I do not realize it.

There will come a day that I will not wake up to your disheveled hair and hagioscopic eyes, there will come a day that your warm skin pressed firmly against mine will not be the first thing I feel as I wake up to the rising of a new morning, and the idea, the mere thought of this brings me so much fear.

I am afraid of my heart, of its potential of becoming overtly attached, of becoming foreign and distant to a love it knows the most, to a love it keeps most close. I am afraid of my eyes, of their potential to overlook and oversee, images, moments, the passing of time, other sets of eyes.

I am afraid my layers of darkness, profound and crestfallen, will impede you from seeing any speck of light in me.