An Angel Such As Yourself

Summer 2009

I worry that I'm not good enough for you.
I worry that your friends won't like me, and they will give you s**t for dating me.
I worry that you are too handsome and too virtuous to be with someone like me.
I worry that I am too fat, too ugly, too old, and too mean to be with an angel such as yourself.
I worry that you will get bored. I worry that your eyes and hands will stray.
I worry that we will run out of things to say to each other.
I worry that our sex will become mechanical, and it will serve no purpose at some point.
I worry that you will tend my garden of love, and then forget to continue watering my plants.
I worry that my honesty, that my constant questions will annoy you.
I worry that you don't believe enough in yourself to allow yourself to be happy with me.
I worry that you will sabotage what we have because you don't think you deserve it.
I worry that our fear will get the better of us, and we will both run.
I worry that even if this doesn't work out between us, I will love and admire you forever,
no matter what you do or say. And that scares me.
I worry that for the rest of my life I will be looking for someone exactly like you.
I worry that my poetry, and my patience won't be enough to convince you to give me a chance.
I worry that the attention and the music will be too much for you. And you will walk away.
I worry that you will get too drunk one of these nights,
and get yourself seriously hurt or killed, and I won't have enough time to come save you.
I worry that I love you more than you love yourself,
and I worry that you will never believe me.
I worry that I will keep you from conquering the world,
and you will keep me from doing the same. And we will resent each other for it.
I worry that all my life goals and plans are meaningless
compared to a life of loving you until I die.
I worry that I will make poor decisions, and end up hurting you.
I worry that you are the one I was meant to grow old with,
and I worry that I will spend my entire life trying to convince you of this,
only to be ignored and passed over.
I worry that I give you too much control, too much time,
and I am afraid you will abuse such power.
I worry that my family will scare you off.
I worry that you won't be able to deal with where I came from.
I worry that you will tire of my moods;
You will tire of the ocean of dispair that I fight off everyday.
I worry that in the end I will only hurt you, and permeate that hopeless
and depressive temperament you've grown so used to carrying around with you.
I worry that a tiny little person like me will not be enough
to undo all the terrible things done to you.
I worry that I won't have strong enough hands
to heal your age old wounds.
I worry that you will be just like my father,
and I will be just like my mother, and our love will die.
I worry that we are too different,
and one day you will realize this and leave me.
I worry that even though you and I both know that we love each other,
that we can trust each other, and that we belong together,
you won't allow yourself to be with me.