does he hold your tiny face in his hands?
its getting to the point where he's the only thing on my suddenly one-track mind-- like obsession. except its bad because he may as well not exist for all the contact we have.
he's become an apostrophe. a faceless impression, real only in theory or idealogical concept. i think of him when i can barely see the stars and hope that everyone in the state of louisiana has turned off their lights. and i hope that he thinks of me and that when he realized that his best friend had it bad for me, he looked at his shoes and wouln't talk to him for the rest of the night. i hope that he found it hard to say good-bye and that his heart seized in his chest when he heard me choke up on the other end.
i mean, i think i could have loved him without trying too hard.
he's become an apostrophe. a faceless impression, real only in theory or idealogical concept. i think of him when i can barely see the stars and hope that everyone in the state of louisiana has turned off their lights. and i hope that he thinks of me and that when he realized that his best friend had it bad for me, he looked at his shoes and wouln't talk to him for the rest of the night. i hope that he found it hard to say good-bye and that his heart seized in his chest when he heard me choke up on the other end.
i mean, i think i could have loved him without trying too hard.