"So how did this all begin?" "I liked her flannel."


3. 3.

January 26, 2012

Lately I've kept myself up wondering what it actually would be like to have her in my arms. How smooth her skin is in real life and not my imagination. How bright her eyes are up close. If her hand fits in mine perfectly. What we would look like together. But as always, the thoughts vanish when I remember how afraid I am of this girl. She could break me, make me lose my mind. Hell, she doesn't know I even exist, I have already lost my mind.

Insane as it was, I knew she had the power to destroy every part of me by the innocence that radiated off of her. She was going to be the death of me and I was excited and scared all at the same time. 

Harry informed me twice yesterday that I was in fact crazy. His words rang through my head the entire night that I lay awake staring at the ceiling. "Go up to her and say something." Knowing my words would be incoherent and impossible to understand I dismissed the idea and carried on with daydreaming from afar. He sighed and walked away after I ignored him. 

I hate being this self conscious. It makes everyday things so difficult. All of the insecurities I refuse to show publicly hide and stab the inside of my body with their negative words and effects. That's why I didn't want to go up to her. My insecurities would show and she would see what I truly was, vulnerable.


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