When I look into the mirror, which is way too often, I’m quite given to looking at my reflection, I want it to be you looking back at me. So, I end up wondering how would you do that, how would you look at me. How would I feel about it or at that moment... it’s so strange to live a life of waking dreams and wishes so intense that every day ends with a sigh.
I question my sanity most of the time, but that’s the plight of being a person who lives on words, I spin them but they do not bring succor to me, only a desire to see you, feel you, overpowering my senses consumes me. Yet, every morning I tell myself what a story life is writing for me.
I love you.
Nu uh, not reassuring, instead trying how does the confession sounds on my lips when I end it with your name.