No longer as truthful as should be deserved, some names, places and events deliberately vague to protect identities that aren't mine

Monday, 10 May 2010

Ce bel amor qui ne peut mourir...

I miss you so much. It hurts. Like hell. Every single day. I know you're hurting right now, and me, and us, and all that is probably exactly what you don't need to deal with at this moment. And that's fine, but I still miss you. I still love you. I still want to be with you even though I can't. I miss the feel of you. I miss your smile. I miss the way you'd hold me. I miss the way you look at me, like I'm the one in a higher league. I miss your cocky, arrogant bullshit. I miss fighting with you. I miss you beating me. I hate the fact you're 4500 miles away. I hate the fact I can't just jump on a bus, or a train and come and see you. I hate the fact that will never change. I hate that loving you is just something that will always be in our heads. I hate that too see you even once more, the entire universe would have to shift for me. I'm scared that you'll fall out of love with me. I'm scared you'll forget about me. I'm scared I'll always have to sit on the sidelines and watch. I wonder why you love me. I wonder why you told me you loved me. I wonder when, if ever, I'll next get a chance to see you again. I love you. I miss you. I need you. I want you. Please be mine.

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