I find myself hoping I don't hit the wrong notes, but oh, "pink triangle on her sleeve," let me know the truth, let me know the truth.
I've been a bit licentious, and greedy. I've been at peace with the uncertainties of my life because I've found tender and sensual friendships unknowable to the reasonable sensibility of my upbringing. I make my own morals with who I bite, it seems like.
And yet I can't stop myself from thinking about her. I just...
So frustrating, isn't it? I'm too busy to allow myself to feel what I'm feeling about this divination in the form of a lady. She's a omen of what is inside, a card called the future.
Scary stuff, huh?
I've been putting off my writings and podcastings. I don't feel like waxing about it yet, y'know?
I had to admit a frustrating thing to myself yesterday. I do love her, might as well acknowledge what I know to be true. And it seems unaffected by the loving encounters I've welcomed into my life. My friends, who I absolutely adore, enrich my life in manners irreplaceable by any other attatchment, but my waking daydreams of her aren't going away.
You'd think a rake like myself, a girl with so many "options" and standby lovers, would feel "above" the warmth, the attatchment, of this feeling... nah. The lay would get me all wrong with that, to my chagrin.
I do love her. I don't think I should think like that, y'know. She's already got a dude she's with, that's my trouble. I wish I knew how to quit this.
Close your eyes
Close your eyes
Close your eyes
Close your eyes
And I can rejoice in the knowledge that I resolved my attatchments to one angel... only to entrench myself into a concern. A concern for another.
It seems to me like she's trying her best to piece together a porcelain love fallen on rough ground.
I believe in her ability to find what is best for her... as long as she remembers herself. I want her to be kind to herself.
For a woman worth the world, that's all that I could wish for love.
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