I’m Afraid You’ll Always Be My Greatest What If

I’m afraid I’ll always be looking into someone else’s eyes looking for you there. Because maybe then I’d find myself again. I’m afraid to stare too long into the past clinging to what will never be the future.

I’m afraid to say we’re fine if ever you ask because us not being together will never be fine.

I’m afraid I’ll always look at you and see the next fifty years that I know might never be.

I’m afraid no one will ever know me the way you do. Or take the time to want to learn.

You learned about every curve and every edge. Every word and what I really meant.

Every flaw that made me who I was. Every insecurity you turned into confidence.

All about my past never thinking you’d become it when I was so confident in a future that was us.

I’m afraid no one will ever watch me as closely as you do.

No one will ever touch as gently as you did.

The truth is you’ve always been the one to hold me without touch.

When people ask about lost love, it’s always been you.

But I’m afraid that this lost love, wasn’t something that was ever actually found.

I’m afraid to discover it was all a figment of my imagination.

I’m afraid of my wedding day if it isn’t you standing beside me.

I’m afraid of saying I do and you’re the one I’m thinking of.

I’m afraid to settle in a love that is comfortable and safe.

When your love was the one robbing me of my sleep.

You were always the risk I was willing to take no matter the stakes.

You were always the one I believed in, even when I had no reason to.

You were always the one I was willing to take a bet on even when everyone else including you told me not to.

The blind faith I had in you and the hope I clung to, the hope I still cling to, because maybe it’ll be us at the end of all of this.

I hate it when I say I love you because what I actually hear is I don’t love you enough to do anything to do anything.

I’ve learned to not trust three words I used to value so deeply.

I’m afraid I’ll always be your best-kept secret. Your guilty pleasure. Your 5-minute cigarette break when you need to that little hit.The thing you only ever want in small doses. And I’m over here semi-addicted to someone who will never need me as much as I want and need them.

I’m afraid of your wedding day, watching someone else get the life I always envisioned.

Watching someone else get the love I pinned so long for.

Watching someone else get the happy ending we used to say would be ours.

It was the love I deserved.

The love I never gave up on.

The love that took all of me.

And while you fumbled through all the right lies, I was the fool for believing it. The truth is I didn’t know it was an act and I was playing the role of the person I thought you needed thinking that would be enough. But it wasn’t just an audience you fooled.

I’m afraid I’ll never truly be over you.

I’m afraid you’ll always be that story I didn’t want to end.

Acceptance comes with time but I don’t look at it as a lapse in your judgment or a loss to you.

The truth is I look at my reflection wondering why I’m not enough.

Because when someone takes the time to get to know you to the core of who you really are and they still don’t choose you, it’s you yourself you wonder about.

I’m afraid I’ll always love you.

I’m afraid you’ll be this love on a pedestal I compare to every other.

I’m afraid I’ll always live with this regret I can’t let go of.

And the what ifs and the maybe will be what haunts me at night.

I’m afraid your ghost will always be what wakes me.

And your skelton in my closet takes up so much room there isn’t space for anything else.

I’m afraid I should have let go sooner.

But I can’t ever seem to.

I can’t ever walk away because with one whisper of my name you’re the one I’ll always come back to.

I’m afraid I’m waiting on a fantasy that will never be my reality.

But most of all I’m afraid of you.

And us.

Because part of me still thinks we have a shot at this.

I think I’ll always believe in us until I see you with a ring.

And if it isn’t me you ask a four letter question to maybe then I’ll fall to my knees and it’ll hit me that it ‘s over.