I Hope It Isn't

It's an ache in the pit of my stomach. It's nestled in that spot between my belly button and my spine. It's like that aching, yearning emptiness you feel in your stomach when you're about to cry. That's how I feel when he walks past me. Like I can't breathe. All the air has suddenly been sucked from my lungs and I can't seem to get it back. Like I could cry or choke or laugh all in the same moment. I don't know what to call it really. My heart speeds up. My head hurts. My plans sweat. I can't breathe. Love? Can't be. Love is supposed to be easy and free and beautiful isn't it? How could this sickening, sinking feeling in my gut be love? I hope it isn't. I hope this isn't what little girls wait all their lives to fall into. It's miserable. I hate feeling so open and vulnerable and dependent when he comes around. I'd like to think I can love someone and be independent too. I'd like to think I don't have to become some needy, clingy woman just because I fell in love. No this isn't love. I don't know what it is. I feel it even now as I write. It's awful. I hope this isn't love. If it is, I feel as though I've dreamt my whole life of something beautiful and magical that is absolutely awful in reality. Please don't let this be love...