I’ve stopped believing in people. Doubt is something that is pretty prevalent in my mind most of the time. I doubt people, their intentions, and worst of all— myself. I doubt my faith and beliefs a lot of the time. I doubt many, many things. And I wish I did not. Sometimes I wish excess baggage did not exist; that I could have a tabula rasa, and just start all over again. I wish that sometimes I was easier on myself. I wish that I wasn’t indecisive. Being indecisive causes quite a few problems. The worst part about love and being indecisive is that I’m pretty decisive about the type of person I want to fall in love with (again.) Everyone thinks I’m crazy because I want to be scared in a relationship. And no, it’s not about the chase. I legitimately want to be scared when I’m in a relationship. I want to feel the butterflies when they’re around, and then get all crazybipolarparanoid when they are not. I want to miss them a little too much when they’re gone, and then savor the time we have together. I want to fall in love with someone who can sit comfortably in silence, not say a word— yet be able to talk to be for five hours straight about absolutely nothing and everything all at once. I want to be able to hold intellectual conversations, and not dumb myself down for him. I want to be serenaded to sleep, even though it’s loud and out of key. I want someone like you.