.

In this sea of empty space and dull self-hate, you were the only thing that could make me feel anything different.

I can't even make the person that I love happy

I ruined it.

I knew you wouldn't care about losing me, because I knew I wasn't that special.

It hurts me so much to love you, but the alternative would hurt so much worse.

I can't describe the feeling I get when I'm with you, it aches. Oh it aches in the worst kind of way. But it burns in the most sweetest fashion.

I could stare at you until the end of time and never tire of such pure exquisiteness.

It is seemingly unfair, how much I love you. What is even more so unfair, is that, even after all this time, some small part of me still wants something. It still wants some kind of return feeling, it craves it. It looks for it in whatever you say, searching for some kind of underlying meaning to whatever you tell me. Some small sign, that maybe, just maybe you love me too.

Sometimes a very small part of me still wishes, still dreams, that a very small part of you, felt the same way.

I miss you. Whenever we’re apart, when I close my eyes, I think of you. I can feel my hands roaming over your delicate figure. I feel your forehead against mine, I see those piercing grey eyes staring into mine. God how I miss you.

I’ll always feel that way about her