Sometimes, all you want to hear is that you’re the only one they want; the only one that’s capable of making them feel the way they feel. Sometimes, you want to hold them close and keep them from things that might steal them from you; and that’s always a problem. Sometimes, you worry you’ll lose them to someone, or some place, or something other than you; and you want to pull away, to curl into a ball and cage up your heart where they couldn’t possibly hurt it. And sometimes, you get scared. I’m scared. I’m fucking terrified.
And sometimes you wonder if they ever get scared, too.
—me, 9.23.14 (via brainthangs)