I’m afraid. That’s it, plain and simple. I’m afraid. I’m afraid she won’t end up being the one. That she’ll find someone better, that she realizes that I’m not worth it. I’m afraid I’ll end up alone, once again huddled in a closet with a razor blade, hacking away at my wrists, like they’re the frayed ends of my heart and soul. I’m afraid I’ll be once again trapped in a dark and lonely place like my mind. I’m afraid that somehow I won’t graduate, that I’ll end up a failure the rest of my life. I’m afraid my parents will disown me; my father will be prouder of his “sons” that aren’t even his own blood. That I end up being nothing. And the world spins without me. But mostly I’m afraid that I’ll deserve it.