I feel like a parrot that only knows a few lines. But I write when I can no longer think, and it’s the same things that turn me into a mess over and over again. So, surprise! This post is about him…. I love him more than I have ever loved anyone or anything. Everyday I love him more. The way he stares into my eyes and doesn’t look away. He really doesn’t look away. We gaze at each for prolonged moments and all we do is smile. Because it’s not awkward. It’s wonderful. And I hate that I love it. Sometimes I think I would be better off if he wasn’t in my life at all. If he just up and left one day. Because I would be a wreck for a bit, but then I honestly could move on. No contact with him at all. It would just be me. And I could take care of myself again. Right now, though, I depend on him. He knows when I’m upset. He cares. That makes it so much worse. He tricks me–I trick myself–into thinking he cares about me. I know he does care about me, but I also know that one day he’s going to find someone that means the world to him. It won’t be me. And in that moment, I will lose whatever piece of him I possessed. I am absolutely terrified of that day. He is all I think about. All I truly want. And it will never be. Never. It still gets to me. I just can’t absorb the fact that I can’t love him the way I do because the only way to have him, to myself, forever, is if I belonged to him completely. But he doesn’t want all of me. He only wants part of me, I’ve given it to him, and I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. All he would have to do is ask and I would give my entire self over to him completely. He already is me. We are we. But it can’t last…


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