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.