If I’m being completely honest, I am terrified of falling for you.
You are not the perfect guy, not the right one for me. And I know this. But I still can’t get you out of my head.
You are all the things I fall for, every single time. The guarded heart, the damaged past. You carry yourself with the confidence only someone who has been broken by love before can carry. And you have it all together on the outside, but I know there’s a weaker, gentler inside.
I can’t help but want to peel back those layers, see the real you.
But I know I shouldn’t.
You close yourself off, hide behind vices and women and lies—all the things I know will destroy me—but I’ve always been a fixer. I’ve always had a reckless heart.
You are the guy with the tough exterior, the one who pushes everyone away, the one who stays up late and plays with girls’ emotions just because he can. I know this because I see it. Because I’m always on the fringes, shaking my head, telling myself no, no, no but knowing I’m falling just the same.
I’m terrified of you. Of those ice-blue eyes, of those strong legs, of those thick arms. Of the way your mind works and how it would twist mine into knots, if I let you.
I don’t want to let you.
But that’s the thing about being a strong woman. You think you’re strong enough to handle the darkest places.
You are scary. But I see through your surface. I know that once you crack, you’re just like me. We’re all broken in some way, aren’t we?
And it’s okay to love broken people—this I tell myself when I’m trying to rationalize loving men that destroy me.
This is the mantra I whisper when I’m thinking about you.
Maybe I’ll smarten up. Maybe I’ll set my phone down and stop texting you. Maybe I’ll search for gold instead of cheapened silver. Maybe I’ll stop trying to make something shine that’s permanently tarnished.
But right now, I’m caught up in my own heart. Praying for a way out, yet hoping that you’ll kiss me all the same.
I’m terrified of falling in love with you. But we both know it’s too late.
Featured Image Credit: Alejandra Quiroz