Changed

From the outskirts of the town // Where of old the mile-stone stood,

Now a stranger, looking down // I behold the shadowy crown // Of the dark and haunted wood.

Is it changed, or am I changed? // Ah! the oaks are fresh and green,

But the friends with whom I ranged // Through their thickets are estranged // By the years that intervene.

Bright as ever flows the sea, // Bright as ever shines the sun,

But alas! they seem to me // Not the sun that used to be, // Not the tides that used to run.

I am falling, real hard. Or I think I am. I'm no longer in denial. I feel, that much I know. I have finally faced the truth, shared it with one soul, scared that if I broadcast it to the world, I'd wake up and smell the thorns and realize that everything's not real. I fear that once they know, the feelings will go and my defensive mechanisms will take over, rebuilding a fortress around my heart which you already have broken. I'm scared of letting you know too, terrified that you don't feel the same, that you grew tired of waiting and you're merely hanging around for habit's sake. I know it's silly, but when did love ever make sense? Is it love? Or is it a mere fancy? A passing adoration?