I have an immense feeling of guilt that I'm keeping you from the life and love that you're meant to have and maybe you really do want to be with me but sometimes I don't know why you are

Thinking about this summer and how absolutely insanely busy it will be and yet I am so excited to be with you and meet your family and lie out in the hammock together, you dutifully keeping me warm

How is it possible to be this happy I am so obsessed with you

My existence takes up far too much space in this world and I will never not be mad about it

I can't exist within my own head so I insist on haunting your bed

I'm wondering how many times I've made this trek home from work and whether or not I have enough coffee for tomorrow morning or how I'm going to get through this week since eating is getting so hard again or whether I'll ever love myself in a way that I can understand and honestly why am I so good at reading other people but I can never call myself out when I lie to myself and god I have to stop writing everything in stream of consciousness but this is how my brain fucking works and it's annoying but I'm just going to have to deal with it