You have me. I know that. I have known that since the first time I caressed you and detect my heart drop into my paws. Like a heavy bass fell, straight down to my toes I could feel it tingling. You have me. You are well aware that . You have known that since you kissed me and plucked back gradually, merely to watch me react by moving in closer to follow your lips, entranced.

It’s like driving your car straight into a sunset on the roadway. I could place the sunlight visor down to hide the glare. I don’t. I tell the colors blind me. I could switch my music down a few notches. Instead, I bomb it. I could put out that cigarette. I inhaled another. I could roll my spaces up to a reasonable altitude so my whisker isn’t beating across my look, I wheel it down farther and drive faster.

Everything that I ever missed was wrapped up in one human being. Can you even be thought that? I don’t think these happens even exist in the real world. Someone so You moved me the moment I saw you. You moved everything. My whole world altered. The catch, of course, is when you find this human being,

Why do we as human beings elect the things we know are good for us?

The situations we know will end up hurting us. I picture myself sitting on the storey of my rain, my rips mingling in with the hot water dripping down the two sides of my appearance and my lips where you formerly caressed me. Every plunge running down a residence you formerly touched. I see you suffering me already, it could be tomorrow or ten years from now but I see it. And yet I find myself standing nightly outside the dwelling where your nerve resides…I’m standing there at the door with no reassurance that nobody will ever answer. And hitherto here I stand.

I have a theory as to why we elect the ones who never choose us.

We want to see how bad it gets.

Kind of like watching a auto accident in slow motion. You can’t look away. You can’t closed your eyes. Your animalistic instincts won’t let you. We watch the metal twist and the glass end and the gas ignite the whole act in flames while we stand there and watch…the whole age burning our foot cheek and thinking’ how horrid .’ it’s not nasty though is it? We can’t look away. The darkest deepest parts of us ever want to see just how bad the accident is. We want to see how far the bone will bend until it cracks. How close-fisted we can push the rubber band until it snaps.

In the same acces, I wonder how deeply I will let you invade my mettle, how many levels of my person will you imbue, how far can you really take me before I interrupt?

Don’t look away it’s just getting good.


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