don't tell me that the thrill is gone.

because i wouldn't be able to handle it's leaving us.
the truth is, i still feel butterflies when i see you.
i still love feeling held in your arms.
i still imagine us sleeping together when we aren't.
i still look at your picture. 
i find myself not being able to control my thoughts unless they are thoughts of you.

don't tell me that we can't make it.

because i wouldn't be able to handle us stopping.
not now. not right now. it's fine. we'll be fine.
i'm sorry i'm bad at answering my phone. and i'm sorry it takes me so long 
to call you back. 
it's not that i dont want to talk to you. that would never be the reason.
i don't know where my phone is half the time. 
i lose it ten times a day, you know that.

don't tell me that the thrill is gone.
because i feel thrilled everytime we kiss.
everytime we're together. 
everytime. 
it's you and me. 

"and i've been forced to digest this wasteful emptiness. and i'm supposed to laugh as if there's nothing going on. i know life goes on regardless, but truth is..
nothing's been the same since you've been gone" 

when you start to really know someone, all his physical characteristics start to disappear. you begin to dwell in his energy, recognize the scent of his skin, the shape of his hands, the step in his walk. That's why you can't fall in love with only beauty. you can love it with your eyes. and with your body, but not with your heart. at least i can't. and that's why, when you really connect with a person's inner self, any physical imperfections disappear. they just become irrelevant.

i think of the past too often. but i'm starting to see that even with the evil,
and even with the good actions,
everything is altered irrevocably.
we are changed by the things we experience.
the big things, the small things.
they all have their impact and can't be undone.
to judge those experiences fromt he past, to the things that have happened to me, is to hate who i've become because of them.
and i definitely don't hate me.
(well, only somedays)


"since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you"