Just because I never text you first doesn’t mean I don’t want to text you. Just because I clench my fist whenever you aim for my hand to hold doesn’t mean I don’t want you to hold my hand. Just because I teased you with her doesn’t mean I want you to be with her. Just because I get mad at our friends for teasing us together doesn’t mean I dislike them teasing us. Just because I always look the other way whenever we’re talking doesn’t mean I don’t want to talk to you. Just because I laugh it off when you jokingly say that you love me doesn’t mean I know it was just a joke. I’m afraid you’ll never text me back if I texted you first. I’m afraid of rejection, you see. I’m afraid I’ll never let go of your hand once it’s entangled within mine. I’m afraid of the moment of letting go of your hand, you see. I’m afraid I might just breakdown if I remained silent about you and her being together. I’m afraid you’ll know that I’m jealous as hell, you see. I’m afraid I’ll get used to them teasing us when I’m not sure about anything between us. I’m afraid of expectations, you see. I’m afraid of suddenly kissing you. I’m afraid of letting my guard down in case every ounce of my emotions get spilled, you see. And I’m terribly afraid of those words to be true, but still, deep inside, that’s the thing that keeps my fire burning. I’m afraid I may let it slip out of my mouth. I’m afraid it’s only just a joke. When in fact, I’d do everything for it to be real. I’m afraid of everything about you. I’m afraid of getting hurt again for the 3rd time. I’m afraid I’ll never let you go. I’m just too afraid.