I managed to like you the way I did even before we made our calls, yet it's difficult to tear away, even for this 1 millimeter increment. I find it amusing that this tiny distance stings my heart.
It's sort of like when you notice a paper cut for the first time. When they slip by unnoticed, one simply discovers the tiny scab from a few days (quite possibly, hours) ago. But once a fresh paper cut is seen, its pain starts to sting much sharper.
I don't want to be "degraded" back to what we once were [as if it were truly that degrading after all. Life seemed simpler then.]
Well, the obvious continues: I must find my life -- I am getting so full of sorrow.
Where am I? Who am I? Where is my job? Just please don't leave me. I have convinced myself that I need you.
I will paint a picture soon, of what I envision. Someday, I will step into the frame I created and live in my own wonderfully crisp, colorful, fresh, photographic, sweet sounding, sweet ordinary life. Just please don't leave me. I have convinced myself that I want to share it with you.
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