She...Her

I'm ill,

I'm anxious,

And I'm sensitive.

I can't describe what's it like being hers. But it's special.

It's weird how I get butterflies everytime I receive a text from her... And everytime that I see her or get close to her. It's weird how her smile seems to light up a whole room and how being hers makes me feel like myself.

I'm anxious and I seem to overthink every little thing. But it's funny how when she's holding me or kissing me, I forget to think and for a few moments I get to truly feel. I never feel like I'm enough but a single compliment from her makes me feel like it's all gonna be fine. And I get all red and smiley. I trust her.

She looks at me and when I analyse her, I realize that she's always smiling at me and not any kind of smile, she gives me my smile, the one only I get. When we talk to each other, it seems like everything and everyone just disappears.

When she kisses me, she does it slowly as if she wants to truly enjoy that moment and remember it. She's the only one capable of making my knees go weak and my breath go shallow.

I find myself.

I'm sensitive. I fear she hates me and although that makes no sense to most people, it makes to me. She cherishes me, for sure. She compliments me and hugs me like she means it, for sure. But does she loves me? Does her heart beat a little bit faster when I kiss her or even look at her? Does she look at our pictures and smile remembering and yearning for more of that? Does she want to show to the world that I'm hers? Does she feel jealousy? Does she write poems and random long texts at late hours at night about me? Does she loves me?

[Like I do...like I love her.]

Titanic

Loving you is like entering a sinking ship with the full knowledge that it will sink and that you can't do anything about it. Maybe there's even something poetic about it... About trying to live knowing that you are going to die and not even try surviving first.

I loved you once and it hurt and the "we" part of the relationship died quite quickly. But then I decided to say yes again... I loved you twice, and I suppose the saying says it's shame on me this time...

It hurts trying to love you because you think of yourself as unlovable and therefore you don't think that what you do to me hurts because why would it hurt since I don't love you, right? But it does and I do. But it isn't a burning pain... It's a void in my chest. It's loneliness in a room full of loved ones. It's shivering cold in the warmest day of summer in a desert.

I suppose this relationship made me addicted. It's like a yoyo... I go through the lowest of the lows because no feeling in the world can compare to what I feel in the lowest of the highs. I can get through days without talking because, and only because I dream about when you are going to send me a hello. And I know that it shouldn't be like this. I know that this isn't healthy... But loving you... Oh loving you is so red... Is red like passion even if sometimes it's blue and cold like the antarctic ocean.

Almost but not yet.

Maybe I'm meant to go through impossible loves, to fall for impossible people and to feel love escaping through my fingers over and over again. Maybe I'm meant to live in the "almost"s of life, never quite making in to "finally" or knowing the meaning of "happy ending". Maybe I'll never be able to ask her (whoever should her be) if we could leave the Christmas lights up until January because, most probably I'll also never be able to say "this is our place, we make the rules"... Because, maybe I'm meant for maybes and almosts. But maybe... Just maybe... Someday I'll be able to call someone "mine"