Miss Aida
It's been three weeks now.

Three weeks since we talked. Three weeks since we took that fateful walk, said those fateful words because things were spiralling out of control and we both needed to regain some form of control over the growing passion.

Spontaneous combustion.

Our close proximity gave us that opportunity to get to know each other, but I doubt either of us expected things to get so serious so fast.

I should have been wary, but I wasn't.

I should have had questions, but I didn't.

I should have been afraid, but I'm not.

There's an enthusiasm about him that I am afraid to spoil, an innocence that seems beyond my reach. His face lights up when he speaks of things he loves, and I am enamoured by that passion for life. There is the affection he is unafraid to show, and a hidden strength, and the confident way he carries himself. There is the way he slips his hand in mine, and the times when our eyes meet and the times he is unafraid to take intiative.

It's a constant journey of discovery. Not knowing the balance of control, and when exactly to let go. Wondering if I'm putting more effort into this than I should, now knowing if perhaps I am letting myself become too involved, too fast. Despite my exterior, I am, admittedly, a creature of passion and hopeless romance.

I am comfortable with his affection for me, and touched at the efforts he has made with my friends and my life, and those actions speak so much louder than words.

Yet, I am wary of making that commitment, even though in my hearts of hearts I think I've already committed myself.

This time I'm taking things slow, because perhaps I see potential there.

Perhaps I see us going the distance.

Perhaps I'm finally warming up to the idea of a future.

Perhaps I can finally say goodbye to my fear of commitment.

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