Sweet and sour

My fantasies are so cruel today. Imagining perfect scenarios where K tells me he loves me and it's so sweet it would make anyone puke. If I ever thought you'd want to hear about those elaborate stories I make up. Sometimes it's a curse being creative with author tendencies.

I don't just miss him, I need him, crave him, want him to be here with me. Just to hold me in a tight hug. That's all I need right now. Sometimes I wonder exactly what it is I need about him, what it is that only he could give me. In a perfect world where he loves me just as much as I love him. Can dreams come true, or are they just like fairy tales?

My heart is so cruel today. I can't stop smoking, can't stop thinking about him for even just a minute. I've been listening to "Pictures of you" by The Cure for hours now, but it doesn't get under my skin. I'm falling in love with K's pictures, and I wonder why. Maybe because that is the only way I can see him with my own eyes, the only way he can look back at me. I imagine a whole lot of things and I wish I could tell him, wish I could somehow show him that I like him more than as a friend.

And a part of me wonders if he asks himself if I like him. If those love poems that I write are about him, if he reads my blog and wonders if possibly he could be my "K" and what would go through his mind if he does. If he has already figured it out, or if he never will. Cause I also have a sensation that it will come as a surprise to him when I finally tell/show him.

I believe it's partially human nature to never assume that someone is in love with you, if not told so directly. I wouldn't think someone's in love with me until they tell me up front. I've been like "Oh, really? I had no idea, but how very sweet of you" those two times that has actually happened. But in between I still don't think that I'm the type of person that someone falls in love with.

I long for July so much, I long for meeting him again, for just being with him. Drunk or sober, I don't care. But alone would be nice. If only for just five minutes, enough for a gaze, for me to casually touch his hand and smile shyly. I would totally do that, by the way. Anything, anything, just to be with him. Being rejected or kissed, but hoping for the latter. Oh, how I dream of those lips.

And I dream a lot today, my mind is racing to the rhythm of my heart. Fast and loud, reflecting and pacing, they cannot understand reality. That truth is never on my side, that luck is never in my hand. But I can't let go, no I hold on to the dream firmly and steadily beyond the absolute breaking point. Beyond it, beyond it and I shatter every minute, every second cause it's so hard to just fucking breathe.

I'm inconsolable, only needing and wanting him and nothing and no one else. Why do I feel like this is so pointless? Trying to win his heart in desperation, needing him like a starving person needs food, loving him like a religious person loves their god, longing for him like a homesick person longs for their home and wanting him like a child that can't stop screaming for candy. Constantly, fucking constantly. And it never ends.