“I have nothing to worry about. You whisper this in my ear. I’m not the jealous sort, but still I am afraid. I snake my arms around your waist, bury my nose in the crook of your neck. I close my eyes and try to remember the clean scent of your detergent. You say that you love me, and my heart thuds. It trusts you’ll choose me. It hopes you’ll always choose me. But love, I must confess that so far, no one else has. I’m not the jealous sort, but I’ve also never been lucky.”
— insecurity also has green eyes











