I'm not the greatest at sharing feelings.
I like to pretend that I'm well liked, pretty and everyone's friends.
I even like to imagine that I in the future there might be a man who I could love, and who might even love me aswell.

Then you came, and I got scared.
Heart locked up but lips sealed
Time for me to search for a bush I could hide under, until my devotion for school forced me to get up and go
Which I did only to realize I didn't feel awkward despite it all.

But it was a night of mistakes. I told you so. Kept telling you so.
You were just the lucky one out of four guys trying the same as you.
So I repeated the sentence to you, until I almost started believing it myself.

While your beard grew longer, I started distancing myself.
But you had put on your running shoes and was ready for a marathon.
Wasn't that what I always wanted?
You beard would move up and down when you would speak  the words than would eventually convince me so.

Because you were third time lucky.
Despite waking up confused, not because of the wine and the *****, but because I felt like I was leading you on, and I didn't want to repeat the already done mistakes, but at the same time loving and finding comfort in your spicey scent. Even your weird *** breath.
No longer able to use alcohol as an excuse to want your lips to find mine.

But I was and am rightfully scared.
When your hands slide down my skin, my mind turns turns a grainy black and white like an old television.
And just like the TV I've slightly stopped functioning.
Broadcasting my insecurities and therefore my biggest fear.
Your arms wrap around me telling me there's nothing to be frightened off, but I'm my own worst enemy.
I guess it reflects just how ****** up I am, and I'm sorry for my never-ending stupidity.
Maybe it's all because you really are too good for me.
I for sure never understood why you stayed.
I still don't understand.
What if one day you realize?