With another I was always unsure of if he was the one or not,
Always questioning and never sure,
And I fell in love with another so easily.
And I lost him.
I could not save him.
And I have had my tears, time, and peace.
And now I have found love again.
One that is so full and healthy and abundant that I am sure;
I am so sure.
His presence brings me peace,
and part of me whispers concern,
of so many what ifs,
and part of me worries,
that I will want to run and adventure,
but I think I am realizing that what I am more afraid of
is if I marry,
and have a family,
and live the dream,
and loose it,
or break it,
or become sad again,
or disappoint them.
Instead of being unsure of the man, I am afraid of something I cannot even name.