It’s Saturday,and I love you still.Days pass, girls and women talk at and to me, of love or the feelings they imagine to be sweet, and it’s all very nice, and I take comfort where I may, but my brain and my body ache after you. I imagine a million different futures, all with you. My passion shocks me, I don’t often think of myself that way. The other day, when you broke up with mein my basement, Icould have yelled, and screamed, and cursed, and kicked you out, and never accepted you again. But I would never do that to you. And still, and still, and still, I love you. I don’t care if it’s a drag, I don’t care if you don’t want it: there it is, pulsing and naked: love, love, love, longing and desire, hope and resignation. I want you. Over and over, in waves: I want you. From a million miles away: I still want you. With typos galore! I want you. I want to have you with absolute trust, I want to cry out all my heartbreak to you, I want to be absolutely me, in all of my glory and faults and I want you to want me back. I flourish, and I will continue to do so, and I would like you to be a part of this.
Right now, and forever.
Right now, and forever.
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Ever since I was young, I never really understood anything about the world. And I never understood what happened in my life. The only thing that ever made sense to me was you. And how I felt about you. That’s all I’ve ever known. And then I went and screwed everythingup, but I see how it can be fixed. So I’m willing to go and, as I said, grasp that change and see what happens from there. If it works out, amazing. If it doesn’t, at least we know that we tried. If it means that we just are friends and never get back together as boyfriend and girlfriend, that’s awesome too. I’m perfectly fine with being only