But what if one day I woke up to a million texts from your mom, frantic and heartbroken? Saying you weren’t around anymore, that the man above took you away from her - from me. That it was your time to spread your wings and fly up to the heavens, your time to bloom into something greater. Something so great I have to wait until it’s my time to see you, in the city among the clouds.

How will I convince myself that I’ll be okay without you? That I’ll be able to get out of bed and know you’re in a better place, a place where I’ll eventually be. A place you never even believed in, a place you questioned since the day you learned about religion.

What if your time comes and I never told you how I felt? I never collected the courage to tell you that you take up every inch of my being. I never found the right words to say that you were everything I wanted. What if you died and never knew that I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life.

How would I live knowing that you were in the dark about my feelings? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, knowing I was a coward and ashamed of the feelings deep inside. I wouldn’t be able to find the strength to get out of bed knowing that if I drove to your house, you wouldn’t be waiting for me. I would be stuck in my bed longing for the clock to reverse, to go back to when you were alive and breathing. Go back to when I was high on being with you and ready to face the world, ready to come clean of these feelings.

But what if I gain all the courage in the world and tell you how I feel? Maybe you’ll look at me in a new way, a way of hate and confusion. You’ll slowly push me away and stop wanting to see me every day. Soon I’ll just be a face in the crowd as you replace me with someone else, someone who won’t start to love you. You’ll bump into me in the streets and do a double take, then remember and crinkle your nose and walk away. You’ll walk so far away from me that I’ll never be able to find you again.

What if my heart shatters and I can’t pick up the pieces? My heart scattered around the world for everyone to walk on, while tears rush down your face because I messed up one of the best friendships you ever had. I’d be left with no motivation to pick up the mess you made, I’d be left in solitude, wishing for death to sweep me off my feet.

Maybe I’ll gain all the courage in the world and find out you feel the same way, but who would write about a successful love story?