A Fish Was Made to Swim in The Ocean
This time it's been a while.
This is how it is now. Again. Back to the place where my feelings are hurt and I have to figure out if it's because of me or because of him. Him. There's always some him hurting my feelings or making me hurt my own feelings. At least this one inspires me to do good things. Mostly for sex, but still. I've been working out on my lunch hour instead of smoking and drinking absurd amounts of coffee, +1, Roberto. Oh, the good things, I've distracted myself from them because I want to be mad. I made him a shirt with a feather and a key because that's how he is. To him, it seems the key to life is to go lightly. It lifts me up.
I fall and fall and fall and every time I see his face, it's smiling and saying something sweet, and I just want to fall into him and kiss him and let my guard down or just run as far and fast in the other direction. And it is precisely that impossiblly coexistent dichotemy that leaves me wondering...what am I supposed to do? I know exactly how to fuck it up. But something keeps stopping me from doing all the stupid things I would normally do...like confess all of my feelings at once, or open right up. Something about his MO makes me think that he would feel more accomplished if he had to discover it himself over time. From the queen of impatience, this may turn out to be impossible. But I am dealing with the nervous energy. 30 minutes of cardio and 30 minutes of light weights a day. My muscles have to be strong enough to hold me up through more than this...
This is just me missing you. And I'm trying to find a better way to direct it. Why am I too proud to tell you that I miss you?
This is how it is now. Again. Back to the place where my feelings are hurt and I have to figure out if it's because of me or because of him. Him. There's always some him hurting my feelings or making me hurt my own feelings. At least this one inspires me to do good things. Mostly for sex, but still. I've been working out on my lunch hour instead of smoking and drinking absurd amounts of coffee, +1, Roberto. Oh, the good things, I've distracted myself from them because I want to be mad. I made him a shirt with a feather and a key because that's how he is. To him, it seems the key to life is to go lightly. It lifts me up.
I fall and fall and fall and every time I see his face, it's smiling and saying something sweet, and I just want to fall into him and kiss him and let my guard down or just run as far and fast in the other direction. And it is precisely that impossiblly coexistent dichotemy that leaves me wondering...what am I supposed to do? I know exactly how to fuck it up. But something keeps stopping me from doing all the stupid things I would normally do...like confess all of my feelings at once, or open right up. Something about his MO makes me think that he would feel more accomplished if he had to discover it himself over time. From the queen of impatience, this may turn out to be impossible. But I am dealing with the nervous energy. 30 minutes of cardio and 30 minutes of light weights a day. My muscles have to be strong enough to hold me up through more than this...
This is just me missing you. And I'm trying to find a better way to direct it. Why am I too proud to tell you that I miss you?