They stem from the cobwebs of my imagination, and exist on the basis of invisible evidence. They are my every insecurity, inseparable from my thoughts of you, what you haven’t yet done, and what we will become.
They are senseless and unvalidated, crazy and meaningless. But still, the onslaught of these fears rage, and I am on wire. My heart peers over, centimeters from an unrecoverable drop.
If I asked you to meet me halfway on the tightrope, would you?