Just no. I have tried for so fucking long to push you out, and somehow I keep letting you in. One minute I'm submitting to these awful fucking feelings you give me, and the next I'm fighting them tooth and nail. And they are awful, every minute. You make me jealous, and irrational, and you turn me into a child. I'm terrified of you, because you have more power over me than I ever wanted you to have. Than I want anyone to have. I've surrounded the garden of my heart and mind or whatever with fences. And I refuse to plant anything in it because my inner cynic tells me that whatever I plant will die. But somehow you snuck under my fences and planted seeds in my garden. And now I'm helpless to see if they become flowers or weeds. All the power is in your hands. Do you know how anxious that makes me? I hate you for it. I hate you. But then the next moment, I'm stuck in everything about you; from your laugh and your voice and your smile to the way your eyes always look curious and the way you walk and how fucking soft your sweater looks. How did you get so fucking close to me? How did you disarm me for long enough for me to have this overwhelming desire to be with you? But I don't trust you. I can't.