Afraid

I'm becoming afraid of losing you. At some point I thought I could imagine a life without you. But as we spend more time in each others company doing nothing, I find myself extrapolating, imagining, conjuring images of us together a year from now — an indulgence. There is so much I want to do but I hold back because I am afraid. I want to kiss you spontaneously, wrap my arms around you when you sit at the sofa, hold your hand when we walk down the street. I'm afraid you will recoil, or worse, put up with it until you can't. I want to text you things as they occur to me — you won't have to respond, but I just want to know it’s okay to want to share a bit more, a bit more.