I’m writing and writing and where does it lead

I’m writing and writing and where does it lead
On the morrow I’ll know, for then I will read
But nothing will stop me, ‘cause I am on fire
From moving my pen I never will tire
Feelings I have and some I will share
Some hours ago when I was still there
Great joy I felt with the lack of a worry
No need to run, no reason to hurry
And inside my heart there was this small clutch
Planted in there without any touch
Do nothing I could and think even less
Have I truly become such a big mess
Regrets I don’t have, it’s much worse than that
I fully enjoyed our overtime chat
My fear is as follows: what will I do
if somehow I manage to fall for you
What happens to that whom I care so much for
Would I be able to look at her face anymore
But worst of all, and I must not forget
What if these feelings are really correct
That would mean horror, tragedy even
I would be never truly forgiven
But still, I don’t know what to do with this now
When it comes to deciding I’m really a cow
Whatever will happen, I seek for an outcome
That leaves me the happiest I ever have come
Would be nice, after all, having a friend
Oh, how I wish this won’t have an end