And I do not want to leave and I do not want to miss you even more, because I can’t even believe I allowed myself to miss you.
I know you don’t. You never do or you never tell.
It’s ok, I never tell either. I don’t like that exposure, that vulnerability crap that “makes us human”. I don’t want to give up on you, although I have to, although I’m so terrified of everything, so scared of being forgotten, of talking to people, of people people people, of you and other people, of you. Fuck fuck fuck, I just wish I could see you right now.