Which is so stupid, by the way. I shouldn’t be scared of falling in love. I don’t have some tragic past. My heart has never been broken irreparably. Somehow I’ve been afraid anyway, running from the ways people change—the ways I might change—hunting down fun as though it’s any replacement for happiness. I don’t know. I don’t understand everything. Sometimes I’m not sure I understand anything. But I like her. I think I even like her a lot. That’s enough for me to go on with, even if it feels scary.
