One day when I was with you, or wanting to be with you at least, I became so self-conscious of every little glance and look, every intonation and utterance, that I had to avert my eyes. They shot down fast, in a hollow attempt to outrace the light that reflected off your skin, your shape, as we stood outside of the restaurant. Didn't really matter, anyways; I caught a glimpse of my pearl-white skin stretching out to the downward horizon, naked from head to toe. I was an emperor in new clothes. Relationship clothes. And it scared the living hell out of me.
I'm so guarded. It's difficult to let someone in so close. So I avoid ever getting there.