A part of me

I don't write so much about him in my blog anymore, cause maybe it makes me nervous now that I know that he reads it. But I'm still in love, and very much so, I just don't know how to appropriately display that. Cause maybe I should just keep it to myself? I'm not really modest, quite the opposite in fact, I just don't know what to do with these feelings that basically still are allover the place. Maybe love is always like that, allover the place and kinda intangible.

Getting a little nostalgic over when I first fell in love with him, cause even though it was painful and I resisted it so much, it was still kinda sweet. Caressing. I don't exactly know what I'm actually nostalgic over, cause it's better now that I've contained most of those sprawling emotions and kept them safe. Cause now that my love for him has reached in so deeply and become essential for my survival, it's like I've become safe with them. Like they became a part of me somehow.

Cause they are, you know, essential for my survival. I think that the only way I can survive is to keep those feelings alive and well inside me. That if my dream would shatter then so would I. I try not to think about it that way, cause I know somehow that it will happen, sooner or later. Sort of when I will come to my senses, cause however much I deny and deny and deny it some more there's not such a high chance that we will end up together.

It feels weird writing about this like that, too look at it a bit from the outside, to get a glimpse of what it really is, this obsession. Just how it changes me, cause it still does. And I wonder, a little bit, is it more about the feeling than it is about him? No, it isn't. Cause my feelings may be stronger than mountains, but nothing is more important than him. It's the person that I adore, not the love that I feel.

It might appear that way because of how I write, but it's basically just to protect him you know, protect him from being on display on my very public blog. No one else can know about him, who he is and what I know. It stays between us, or maybe just in my head. And I do that because I care so much, not because it's an obligation of loyalty or whatever. (Loyalty should never be an obligation, but to some people it is.) So I simply write about what I can share, which is my stupid feelings, which means that they get more focus, obviously.

So you see, there's still much that I have to say. But it tends to become repetitive, and I can't upload however much shit on my blog if it's all gonna be just the same old rantings. Meaningless or meaningful rantings are also better left in my own head. Cause I don't need to share everything, you know, even though I am like an open book.

But I do want to share a lot, get it out of my system, and to let him know. That I'm still here, and he's not forgotten or anything. And somehow it feels better when I've written and published, as if a part of my burden has been lifted. Well, I could go on with this forever, but that would be too much to edit so I'll just leave it at that.