Worrywart

I am 100% certified and certifiably a worrywart. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I get it honestly; the apple conveniently dropped directly underneath the tree. I worry about everything, from the smallest of concerns to the biggest of heartaches. It all boils down to those stupid feelings I've spoken about previously. Feelings make me uneasy and anxious, a less desirable version of myself, albeit perhaps a more accurate one.

I once heard that most of which we worry about never comes to fruition, but in the game of love, my history tells an altogether different story...one with a typically unfavorable outcome. So, yes, I worry. Does he still like me? Does he still want to be with me? Does he care? Does he like someone else? Does he...on and on and on.

The best part is always the beginning, but it's also the worst. Always.

And then there's my Caribbean boyfriend. A connection that shall never fade, despite any time or distance. An understanding, an appreciation for each other that is nothing short of miraculous. A hope for each of us to be happy, to be loved and passionately so, when we are unable to be and do together. Any lover of mine will simply love me for having something so beautiful and special in my life.

A song that once outlined every hope and wish I had in the world: This Year's Love by David Gray.