Its been one year since I met you. I love you, yet irrationally so. I find myself too level headed, too logical. This one way infatuation has not only made my life dark, but resurrected a twisted faith in God.

Only God could, ex nihilo, create someone so beautiful in face and facet. Yet only God would simultaneously snatch such a blessing, such a carressing of the soul, out of my life.

I'm so fucking sick of dreaming of you. I've endured some tortured dreams. Dreams of cracked and crunched bones, inescapable damnation. But I wouldn't flinch when I drifted into sleep so long as I knew that I wouldn't find myself in that damned house, hearing your damn voice, and always being just one closed door away.

Because that's how its become. We're all in some huge strange house looking for ourselves or someone else, right? On the offchance that your internet glitches its way to this page, just know that every time I call you, its only to perpetuate the facade that I'm "just a bright and bubbly friend you could need to say comforting things in your ear".

I actually want to experience the rest of life with you. Maybe I'll call you tomorrow. Just get the fuck out of my dreams.


Anonymous
02:08:00 AM
3/26/2008