It’s normal for me to want to be with you every single second I phase through, right? I hardly feel like I get to be with you nearly as much as before. But I guess that’s what was bound to happen. You’ll gradually get busier and so will I. Everything is constantly changing, I find myself adapting with twice the speed I use to take things with. I can’t deny the new sense of curiosity this gives me, I’m so anxious. My thoughts of you carry so much yearn, it’s practically embossed, leaving every other thought short of important. I can’t fight the fact that you mean more now than you ever did, you’ve grown so much on me.
What am I suppose to do with all of this? I never trusted myself before. I was so overwrought with the repeated offense that everyone I had ever been the slightest bit emotionally involved with could grace me with. My will was battered and sore from the hell I had simultaneously put myself through with complete and utter knowledge. I let myself go in that last one and nearly lost my senses, I was just so done with everything and everyone. I was hurt, so hurt. I’m glad I managed now though, it’s proven to be everything it should be. I found a light in that abysmal grief and no one knows how relieved I remain.
It really is true; there’s going to be that person that subconsciously starts creating the outline and subjective mold for the rest of your life that you won’t be able to help but look for in others. There’s been so many things you’ve taught me so far, and I probably wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for you. I know it’s modest by nature, but I really admire you and all the knowledge and wisdom that you have. I admire the person you’ve become after hearing so much about the person you use to be. I admire the sense of independence that you’ve made for yourself and how it has helped you all these years. I want to have that so badly, and I’m struggling at the moment, but nothing motivates me more than you do. I admire the way you let your guard down when we lay in bed, and mindlessly drift into a slumber we both can’t seem to wake up from. The best sleep I get nowadays are when I’m next to you, dreaming of the very notion. I admire that way you’ve managed to get under my skin and electrify every little atom of my existence with yours. I admire how passionately, deeply, and madly you have fallen for me, and trust me with everything that you know, that it’s mutual. I’ve loved far too many times and faredso terribly in the past, that I know when it can mean anything at all. Yours, my dear, has meant more than anything I can recall now. How can someone own so much of my soul without ever trying? I’m baffled by myself, and by how fast I gave into you. I remember asking myself after the third time of ever hanging out with you, “You just never get enough, do you?” It’s true, I had started crushing before I could realize I was rushing in too fast. But how could I stop either way?
How could I! , when every time you pushed to hang out another consecutive day, I could only smile and agree within seconds of getting the invite. No one had ever wanted to be with me so much, so fast. I could hardly believe it at that point; I was too awed by the effect it was having on me. I love feeling like it’s okay to want to be seen every day. I gradually become obsessed with the notion of your need to see me, it made me want to believe in the thought of romance again. You brought everything I swore to forget back in the full form and flesh. It was once again raw and immaculate. The pure envision of the innocuous. So exemplary in my eyes, I knew right away I was falling the second you came out of your ’ white rabbit. ’ But I guess, most of all, I admire the tender hope in your eyes when you look at me and me alone.
Your eyes drive me to the end of the ledge, I’m about to stumble off.
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