Did I screw up by not telling him?
Or am I gonna screw up telling him?
I've never been this insecure.
I've never been so ashamed to tell anyone.
Normaly I'm pretty open about my miserable
state of mind.
But with him I'm way to sceared.
Sceared that he will run away.
Sceared to lose him.
It's unfair, I don't want to feel ashamed.
I don't even want this to be still a part of my life.
But it is, it just is.
It's been 2,5 years ago.
And it played a roll every day since.
I just don't trust