(no subject)
I hate reading into things. I hate the fact that I can't let go, I feel sick. Like something is seriously wrong with me. How could one person have such a grip? Damnit, I hate talking about this, I hate thinking about it, but... well... obviously I haven't been able to stop. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and reach out. But nothing is there, thats the worst. The harder I try to get away, the worse it gets, absence really does make the heart grow fonder, and here I thought that was just some stupid saying... well hah... guess I was wrong.