Stubborn

The truth is that I'm nervous as a cat,
As well as more afraid than I should be
Of half the things you want to have us do.
I like you -- but you surely must know that,
With all that time spent talking happily;
But I'm not ready to make love to you.
While some might say I know you very well,
My doubts on what I mean to you won't quell.

I want to be assured that you'll be here
A year from now, or two -- and maybe more.
A stroll into your bedroom is too great
A step for me to take without some fear.
I want some solid promises before
I'll go, perhaps even a wedding date.