I either, love too hard, or I don’t love at all. Either way, someone gets hurt. And I am always left alone. What I crave, is innocent. Men ask me nightly, what I imagine us doing together, they assume my thoughts are full of lustful touches, in a candle lit room. What they don’t understand, is that I am not them. And they are not me. I crave more than kisses. I want more than empty promises and fake flattery. I want flowers I don’t have to beg for. Movie night with favorite treats and popcorn. I imagine a small hand, reaching up. Pure joy and excitement with first steps. I crave the feeling of falling in love, and never second-guessing. With each boy I meet, I begin to think they all want one thing and what I imagine is just a dream. And this? This is my reality. people crave images, moments that only last a night. Hangovers, regret, guilt, shame. They call it fun. I call it fear. Fear of living. Fear of letting go. Fear of acknowledging one’s own faults. fear failure. there is one thing both crave, stability. They panic, and they rush to build. They create fake stability on a cracking foundation. If they keep building, their foundation will fall, and they will too. I don’t want to start building, until I know that my foundation is ready.