fuck me...eating caramels reminds me of her.

I might be screwed.

In the past week Ive sustained a moderately severe injury, and feel like my mind should be focused on the healing process. I'm surprised, though, because In the midst of the pain which has become more of an annoyance as opposed to an actually uncomfortable situation, I find my mind and taste buds conversing, and partaking in the remembrance of why I'm still attracted to her, even though she's in a land far, far away. I do things now, to keep her fresh in my thoughts. Revisiting a moment suspended in time with my vision that portrays a content feeling on both of our faces. Listening to sounds that have been carefully selected, that for one reason or another, give me a feeling as if she were close enough to feel her warmth. Using my sense of touch, as limited as it may be, to clean and refresh the ridges and bumps of a machine that will always hold a direct correlation to her. And now, without warning, being catapulted into the memory of lazy couch moments, ignited only by the sweet, sugary goodness that only a caramel can provide, there she she is.

I feel like my senses have been hijacked remotely. I didn't know that was even possible. I'm not complaining, I'm just, once again, (and starting to hope that this is to be a recurring theme) pleasantly surprised.

I'm awaiting your stories, and cant wait to hear your laughter while I'm granted the gift to lay eyes on your hauntingly beautiful smile once again, even if only for a short while.

she was perfect...

and she will be missed more than anyone will ever know.

see. here’s the thing…

I’ve been thinking a lot today. I’ve had a bunch on my mind, but I can’t seem to prioritize these thoughts because no matter how hard I try, she cuts in and ruins the process. It’s pathetic really. Even the distractions aren’t serving their purpose today. Television is just noise in my ears as my vision recalls the intricacies of her face. The immersion into conversation with good friends only leads back to the inevitable relation of my situation to theirs, which just returns to what I think I lack in my life, and the disappointment of this quickly evaporating fantasy. Working out has become the closest escape, only because the physical pain drowns out the mental process, but as soon as the pain subsides, there she is, with her head on the pillow, staring at me with that look of amusement that I’ve taken a mental snapshot of, whenever I close my eyes. Its torture, but I’ve done this to myself even though I knew better.

The thing that scares me the most is that I might have been wrong to put a mechanism in place that has served me so well in the past, which has seized up in my current situation. The choice to partake in feelings of lust and love knowing that it will at some point come to an end, just to appreciate them more when they do present themselves after an extended absence. In this situation, however, it’s not working. I see myself grasping for anything to hold my ground, and yet I can’t stop slipping into this void of loneliness. I grew up alone, developed my own techniques to help cope with the malicious solitude of being a single person in a world of pairs, and keep telling myself that I don’t need anybody. This situation is more than that to me though. It holds the highest highs, and lowest lows that I’ve felt in quite some time. It has more to do with our interactions as it does a solution to being single. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’ve experienced love before, but I don’t think I’ve ever fallen in love like this as backwards as it seems. Realizing that there is a fine line between infatuation and falling in love, I’m having a hard time drawing a boundary. Infatuation to me has to do with admiration, whereas falling in love has much more to do with the undeniable reciprocated connection between two.

I’ve had a taste of what we have to offer each other though, and I can’t help but realize how well it blatantly complements both of us. That alone gives me hope in a situation of uncertainty.

I know that you don’t have the same feelings for me as I do for you, and somehow, for some reason, I still have to get this out there.