I think to myself, perhaps, that it would have been better not confessing my love. I did it in hopes of rejection. Then it would be over. I could love in silence and perhaps cease to exist in his eyes. Now I have countless unanswered questions and fears. Too many false hopes, doubts, and inadequacies. So much false hope and fear spurred on every time I try to speak. So much  self-hate. So much confusion. I don't know how to handle it. I feel that it may have been a mistake, because I can only expect the worst. The worst hurts.