Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Posted at 3:16 AM
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I want to be made up of just the beautiful things.
A coffee in the evening, a good book and jazz music.
Beautiful words of love and firm assurances.
Heartbreaks that jolt me, thoroughly and cruelly.
Your heart, words on paper.
Careful confessions.
The things I write about... It makes me sad to know it's never going to happen and I'll never find someone who will love me like that. Like I am his everything. Yeah. I think by now I already know that such things don't happen to me. Maybe I am just too unspectacular for anybody to want to love so completely.
I can be everything you want me to be. If you're all mine, then I'm all yours.
No questions asked.
Funny how there's nobody to tell this to.
Love, love, love.
This thing is becoming too elusive an idea to me, I don't remember how it feels like or what it even means anymore.
