The scent of…

Desperation and insecurity reeks. Like the stench of a corpse left to decompose in heat and humidity, the smell of desperation enamates from every last pore. I cannot smell it, but someone else can. And maybe someone else found the stench so overpowering, he ran away, never to be heard from again.

I keep asking the questions over and over again in my head. For whatever reason within me, I cannot seem to let the issue die. It’s a part of me, dormant until it wakes again, and when it does explode, it does so with immense fiery, suffocating everything else around it.

Once more, it erupts. With force of fury and angst, I’m thinking once more.

On a separate note, I’m beginning to think that I’m entertaining thoughts of a breakup because of the things ML keeps saying to me. How he feels that I’m holding out and how he doesn’t think I will marry Z. Sure, I’ve thought about break up for a long time now, but now, more than ever, the urge is stronger. I’m scared. I’ve spent 5 years of my life with Z, I don’t know a life without him. I’m afraid that if I do anything rash, we will cease to be friends, and his friendship is too important to me. He’s my best friend, and I know no other, how do I live a life without your best friend? Even if you don’t want to marry him?