Most days, I will get mad at myself for being a coward and for letting myself get eaten up by 'extreme' paranoia.
But those cowardice were just the effect of a broken your heart and naïve overthinking—and maybe because I failed myself for not meeting the expectations of the seventeen year-old me.
I understood that now. That when we grow up and see more of the whole world, we'll eventually realize that those struggles are all petty and meant for us to grow up from a childish state of mind—like a phase I assume everybody has gone through.
But today, I let myself be a coward because it's not just me that we're talking about. It's about my world that now involves a young and innocent human being living inside me for about two months now.
It just doesn't include the old and immature me.
