Well, my love, you have me confused and reeling again. I am yours, you are mine. That is all that matters.
I keep doing these things to prove my love for you. Crazy things. Things I would never do. Why do you require what is most difficult for me? I’m so ridiculously head over heels in love with you.
We can’t be just friends. We can’t be. It’s not enough. It’s like asking an ocean to become a puddle. It’s an ocean, dammit. How can you not see that? Or you can see that and you’re fucking with me, which seems far more likely.
And this is the part where my love letter degenerates into swearing and/or jumping on you. I’ll try to gloss right over that part.
I hate waiting. You know that. You sadistic fuck. Okay apparently glossing over that part doesn’t work. So until the day you decide to grace me with your presence, I’m sitting here doing the same damn thing I always do. Which is listening to the same songs and pining for you. I wonder if even after I have you in my arms will it be enough? I doubt it. I’ll probably need you even more after that. Like an addict after their first taste. So does that make this methadone? Yeah, I think it does. How the hell am I supposed to handle the real deal? How?
I am so full of questions. So full of love. I am going to explode one of these days.