I’m trying to fight it. I’m trying to fight the hopeless romantic in me already concocting fantasies of you and me. What idiot am I to already think of being next to you, sitting silently in your arms while you write, after just three days of talking? What fool fantasizes about the way our eyes would meet for the first time, how warm just being next to you would feel, when we haven’t even met each other yet? When I don’t even know you yet?
What kind of fresh hell do I want to unleash with being okay with being hurt again, as long as I know it means I’ve loved you the best way I could, and it might be the best thing to have ever happened to me when we’re not even close to taking baby steps to falling in love?
I wonder where my caution went. I’ve always been cautious of your type ever since that last failure of a relationship. I’m terrified of your cold logic against the fire of my emotions, how strong the ice is against my flame. I know I’ll shrink in the presence of it, but I still want to get close to you.
I’m hoping that this is finally the balance I’ve been thinking about. Not opposites, not separate poles that repel each other every time they get close. You’re someone who has their whole life planned ahead of them, while I’m just trying to navigate this clumsy reality the best way I know how. Still, somehow, I think this might just work out. I might just teach you how to be comfortable with the impulsive, and you might just teach me how to have any semblance of self-control.
It’s too early. It’s too naive to experience this fragility so soon, but I’m surprised at how excited I am for you to break me.
I would gladly go through all the ups and downs of falling in love again if it means I’d be with you. I want to know you, and I’m praying that you let me. I’m curious at how you are behind the facade you tell me about. I’m even more curious about how loving you would feel. Most of all, I’m curious with the pain of it ending. I want to know how much it might hurt, how much it would sting, how much every sad song would remind me of you. How many bottles to drink, how many packs to smoke, just to forget you and start anew.
But just so you know, I kind of hate the curiosity you’ve led me to.
Original date: 15 February 2017