This year I turned 17. I'm at a new school, since last September. I have a boyfriend. This is a year of new beginnings, new yearnings and turnings, a fresh start on which to lay my heart. And, to be frank, I'm scared. Petrified of failing: not talking to the right people, not being the right kind of person myself, not taking enough leaps off perilous cliffs and waking up one morning and regretting that which I did not try.
Most of all, I think I'm afraid of it ending. And that is making me needy. I wake up thinking of him. When we're apart I convince myself that he'll end it. I get worried all the time: I need him to call, I call him too often. People don't want to invite us out anymore; we're too much of a couple. And in a way, I hate it. In the same way, that sometimes, I hate myself. But at the same time, it's perfect. I've found someone I can put all of my faith in. This is one leap I haven't been to afraid to take. Now I'm at the bottom, keeping afloat in the river.
There are stones on my feet. Will they weigh me down, make me drown, take away my last breath like a deathly kiss? I don't know. All I can do is hope that they won't.
Peace, be merry, and try not to think too much (I know I am).