She doesn't know how hard it is for me to see her look at me the way she does, to feel the things I feel, and to restrain myself from kissing her rosy cheeks, from rubbing the back of her neck, from brushing her hair aside and behind her adorably miniature ears, from sliding my hand down her warm face, from bringing her closer to my body.

It can work between us, that I unquestionably believe. I don't fear that it won't be perfect. I don't fear that it won't be the best situation. I don't fear that it won't be easy to maintain. I don't fear that it won't be everything I expect it could be.

I fear that it won't be.