Three

There is this girl. Scared. Too scared for her own good. She met this boy. A meeting their souls had planned a lifetime before their bodies realised each other. He fell in love with her. His looks were laughable, but she adored him. And he her. He wrote her songs and love letters. He held innocent lust in his eyes when he looked at her. She knew he loved her and that maybe, one day she would too. But she was too scared to let herself or to let him in. She kept her heart boxed up inside her and let the boy think she did not love him. And after a long while he gave up. She moved to a distant land and willed herself to be practical. She told herself it was for the best. But ever since, she has felt incomplete. She has met many boys. Thought she was in love once again, but wasn't really. And now she is contemplating giving herself to one of these boys. He means nothing to her, but she pines for the boy she wouldn't give her heart to and the vacuum inside her is demanding her to fill it. The funny irony of it is that she did not love that boy from her youth, in her homeland. But she regrets never having given him and her heart a chance. And now she's afraid she's trained her heart to hide. And her body to give without questions. She's afraid of love and thus has learned to abuse it. Scared.