This is the most afraid I’ve ever been of love, of this intangible object that I cannot protect with my physical being. It can escape into the hands of cruelty and humor, leaving me alone to wander through the wilderness of life, lost without any sense of direction. I leave soon, and my love may stay. And if I stay, then my love leaves. Wherever we go, the other must follow, or chance losing the one we hold closest to our hearts. I, more than ever, am terrified of losing my other half, my better half. My entire existence has brought me to this exact moment in time, when I have to choose between what I want and who I want, because I will likely get one or neither, and in the slight possibility that I get both, he will still be far away. My mind circles itself, searching for some answer to the question, “What should I be doing with my time and my life?” There is no echo of a thought towards an answer, and I am left trotting around my own psyche, confusing my compass and drenching my body in the sweat of anxiety. If there is an answer, let it come willingly, since force seems to deny me what I most desire: certainty.