I guess I should have figured out by now that some fantasies are meant to be just that. A fantasy. A ghost in your mind. A chill in your soul. An excitement to the body.
If you really knew what crossed my mind, everytime we are near one another…
If you only understood how crazy I am about you…
If you only stopped being so damn scared all the fucking time…
But you know nothing, you understand nothing and you are not going to stop fearing what you feel. And I have absolutely no time for that. Trying to figure out everything for you and for me, but especially for you, it’s tiring. So tiring.
I know how I fucking feel. And I am in no way, shape or motherfucking form, frightened by it. I am not going to repress it.
The thought of us giving in to our emotions gave me strength… However I realized I have it anyway. I just didn’t know how much.
I don’t need this fucking bullshit. I need someone who will love me hard. Because that’s how I always do it.
I don’t need half-love. Half-desire. Half-anything. I am not that type of person.
You know how I feel. So what’s the fucking problem?
That night I was beyond happy. That night had been a good start, indeed.
But it’s hard to keep that feeling for long when there is something to be settled. When there’s a question unanswered. A word unsaid.
I love you hard.
Can you love me? (Harder?)