i don't know what it is about star-crossed lovers that makes them so empathetic.

do we enjoy the longing for love—when the hurt, the idea that you will never be together, becomes the comfort? the thought of love flourishing should be a wonderful sight, yet all i can see is the future heartache and the destruction of my lovers, perfect as they came.

scared that i'll ruin them.

scared that i'll hate them.

simply scared,

scared that i'll lose them.

because you can't lose what you never had, and yet, you can't have what you never wanted to lose. i'm trying to understand. i'm trying to see why do we long to be lonely—the companion of death. must it always end like romeo and juliette? i'm not ready for the grim reaper, still, he could be my lover and a good one at that!

i don't know. when did i forget to love?