I sit alone on my couch in my apartment at 9:32pm on a Sunday night with my arms folded tight across my chest, shaking my head and groaning and saying to myself, “Don’t do it! Don’t fall in love right now, you fool.”

I try to meditate. I try to focus on my breath or on anything else but her. I’m on the cliff, I know it. I might have even already fallen off. I’m already thinking of the last time this happened. Even if it’s requited, this kind of headlong love is too much. I’m going to try and sleep it off. By god, I’m scared.