I think I love you.

Maybe I'm amazed at the way you laugh.
Or it's the way you get so amused at little things.
Or the way you let me cuddle with you and smother you all night long, just so I can feel safe.
Or the way we judge movie previews together.
And how I still get the jitters when you call
(I still get butterflies, by the way).
Or maybe it's how you kiss me.
Or how we laugh when we're in bed together.
Or how I feel so natural with you in my arms.

And maybe I'm so scared at where this is going.
Part of me feels too right.
Part of me feels too safe.
Something inside me is telling me that something could go wrong.
I don't want to be crushed.
Not again.

Something tells me this feels so good. It feels perfect.
Cuddling. Kissing.
Loving.
Is this love?
I think I love you.
But I'm afraid.
I'm afraid of falling without a safety net.
I'm afraid of getting hurt again.
I'm afraid that one day I'll be left alone in the dark, again,
like I was before I met you,
when you saved me.

I'm petrified of being the over-protective,
tremendously jealous,
rediculously,
insanely,
psychotically derranged boyfriend
that smothers,
hinders,
prevents,
and accuses,
even when there's nothing to be jealous of.

So walk with me,
talk with me,
just be with me.
Only me.
I'm ready for committment.
I'm ready for trust,
and understanding,
and true love.
A love there is no cure for.
The love I've been waiting for
my whole life long.