He's not some guy. Let me be honest. He's the closest thing I've found to what I want without comprise. I don't know him very well. I don't know him. I've seen him four times. We do not communicate. I hear things about his, read the things he's written. And the way he thinks, the image that's been created of him is the image I've been yearning for.
But is gets worst...better...his dreams are mine, his mind travels in the same direction. His love is mine, only it's not because, I am not his desire. I pine, whine....I dine alone in this misery. I am tired, I can't wait to have more of him beside me. I am anxious for his words to be written for me, not about me, not with a mention of me, just to me.
To me, a simple girl too caught up with this love, this infatuation, this lust? this heartbreak, this eye-opening that another mind like mine exists to see that I am a woman.
But is gets worst...better...his dreams are mine, his mind travels in the same direction. His love is mine, only it's not because, I am not his desire. I pine, whine....I dine alone in this misery. I am tired, I can't wait to have more of him beside me. I am anxious for his words to be written for me, not about me, not with a mention of me, just to me.
To me, a simple girl too caught up with this love, this infatuation, this lust? this heartbreak, this eye-opening that another mind like mine exists to see that I am a woman.
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Thanks. Danke. Grazie. Gracias.