to be perfectly honest with you,
i'm scared.
i'm scared of a lot of things, actually--
dark rooms and creaky floorboards and losing my loved ones and sharks and haunted houses and tarantulas
but love, i'm scared of losing you.
it's been one month since you've been introduced into my life
and already
my future has been rearranged to fit you in it--
the unconditional love i've been craving.
but i can't stop thinking about the "what if"s,
can't stop buying into the stolen glances
and hushed tones
when we walk down the hallway together hand-in-hand,
a single baritone voice stands out above the whispers says
"i didn't know he liked girls like that."
the word gay
the word ******
circling through my mind like baby what if
we get six months into this thing
and i'm madly in love with you
and you decide
he can love you better?
it's not a specific him,
but the pronoun itself,
the entity, the intangible.
baby what if
my love just isn't enough for you,
my words or my heart or my body--
what if i'm not good enough for you?
you are different; you are special
and you deserve only the best,
only happiness in its truest form.


but baby what if
you no longer find that happiness in me?
-a.c.b