I lay awake watching you sleep, trying hard not to trace the outline of your face so as not to disturb you. You look so beautiful and contented and I can hardly breathe because all I’m thinking is “don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up…” so perfect that I need to pinch myself, or you, to prove that you’re actually real. Terrified that I’ll do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing and it’ll all disintegrate into dust.
I can feel a barrier between us like you’re already distancing yourself from me. Protection against what you already feel and falling for me further or the beginnings of loss of interest? It’s impossible to tell. I have too many of my own demons to battle, conflicted in my desire to throw myself head-first yet fearful that it’s all a mirage and that I don’t have the resources to pick myself up again so need to hold back from falling too far. Too late. I’m already in too deep.
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