A new fear to add to the list.
One that surprises me sort of.

Comitment?

I mean... "You are my everything. I love you so much."
I should be so happy,
these tears welling in my eyes joy, not sorrow.

Love.
So delicate.
A leaf;
One day new and green,
blossoming and growing.
The next its fall, and the colour is fading,
the stem, the very foundation,
rotting away.
And then its gone.
A brown frilliege piece floating across the wind,
crumpled and cluttering the space around.

"999 out of 1000 isnt so bad.
You are perfect."

I am not.
And if I should disappoint you,
it'd break my heart.