Because it still hurts. Because to love like *that* still hurts. Because the thought of committing into *that* type of relationship still send me towards the edge of a cliff. A long way to fall.
My battle scars are paper cuts. Quick and clean. All over my heart.
A cut too tiny to be tended profusely, but the pain is too significant to ignore.
Luckily, like paper cut, it doesn't happen every day; it doesn't happen that often. It doesn’t give rational reason to avoid paper.
But it still hurts.