out of sort

what’s your addiction?

i start to do things and ask myself why. i even ask myself why i keep asking why. you are the reason, and i know i know that. going out at 10 pm to see the picture of your fish you sent to my e-mail. waking up at 3 in the morning to answer you call and getting trouble going back to sleep. watching trainspotting over and over again because you speak like mark renton. crying when i know what we’re having is impossible, but then you say only few things in this world are impossible and people don’t try to do them anymore, not like our relationship. thinking to just leave, but never do. being angry at myself for letting myself fall for it from the first place.

“how can you terribly miss someone you never had a pleasure of meeting?” you asked. and i said, “it’s all mind over matters. doesn’t love see with mind rather than eyes?” and you rewarded me with this line; “you make me want to wear my kilt.”

you’re my guilty pleasure. so let it be.

if you’re drawing yourself back, i would understand. we own nothing but dreams anyway. and even though it’s easier to live a life with big dreams, i don’t want to set up such thing with you. it hurts.

and so after this we will really wake up, leave things behind, and stop killing each other with the unbearable longing.

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