I must stay because you are the only reason that I would leave.
I must not stay because love is the only acceptable reason for leaving, and it is why we are all here.
I roll these ideas around in my mind and mouth, and every time I do, things make less sense.
Maybe I’m not hopeful, per se, that I can do what I came here to do, but I am intensely curious about it. This intense curiosity is what drives me places.
I must stop acting like my decisions are out of my control (although I must also examine why it feels this way). I chose this, I wanted this, I want this, and I am wanted here.
However, because I no longer fear loving you, I now fear losing you. Funny how that transition works like the flip of a switch. The fear just bounces around and I’m still unsure of how to put it to rest. I just woke up from a strange dream about Ohio. It’s very late here, my mind rests without my consent at this hour.
I don’t know anything. Especially Tagalog particles and sentence structure. Today, I will stay. Tonight, I will think of you.