I keep saying sorry.

Apart from the fact that there is so much to be apologetic for, I seem to have those three words at the tip of my tongue as there is really not much other to say these days. I don’t understand why you would want me around, I won’t be able to make you laugh, or happy for that matter. I won’t be able to love you as I can’t seem to find my heart, let alone offering it to you. I hate not understanding things, especially your infatuation for me, this wretched being.

Of course, I want to hold your hand, kiss you in September rain, whisper you goodnight. Of course, I want to stroke your hair, run with you under the January sun, hold you and never let go. Of course I want to say yes. But baby, can’t you see the grey clouds above our heads. There will not be rain nor sun for this chapter, let alone the rainbow in the next.

I don’t know what I’ve done
or if I like what I’ve begun.
But something told me to run
And honey you know me it’s all or none.

I don’t know if I can do this. The last thing I want is to hurt you, though I guess it’s already too late to turn back.

I’m so sorry.