sábado, 18 de agosto de 2012

His love is what I need.

  I'm not
really trying to
define it.

   It's complicated but it's Rome the other way round in spanish, from "amor" (love) to "Roma"(Rome). Yeah, I'm just trying to be  funny, but it's not definitely my thing.
      I'm just trying to feel it, right? Is just love, no? And maybe, just maybe, that´s the problem. I´m trying too hard. It's not funny, it makes me feel miserable. But I know, I know from the deep of my heart no one dies for love. Neither for luck nor for surplusage.
     The thing is I don't need immediately love,'cause it's mostly fake. I don't want that. I, I just
need his love. And in part it generates me sadness, and now you may wonder why. I'll explain.
I can´t tell him how I feel. The simple fact of being talking of him causes me nervous. I'm
freaking out right now. Yeah, I'm so pathetic. Scared bitch.
     I'm upsetting myself with the only object to be ready for someone like him. Yeah, I know
 it's my excuse for not telling how I feel since fiftieth grade. Again PATHETIC.
      Maybe this´s the time, he's been sending me signals, telling me he likes me too.

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