Récits d'un amour compliqué

March 2023 (pt. 3)

and here you are, in my house. but it isn't like it used to be. you aren't here to spend time with me. you're here to see what will happen. and my heart isn't feeling okay, because i just wish you would spend time with me. i wish you were here to see me. i am afraid of you drunk, not because you would hurt me, but because you would love me. you would stay a bit later, wait unti everyone is gone, and then love would start again. i just wish you would get under the blankets with me. i just wish i could fall asleep on your arm again. then in the morning you would complain that i snored, i would complain that you took all the space in the bed. we would complain that we didn't sleep enough. we would argue that we should stay in bed for a litle while, that we should just enjoy it a little bit longer. because obviously these moments should be enjoyed and cherished.
and here am i, hiding in my bedroom, because i am afraid of seein you. i am so deeply afraid of looking at you, through the love of your eyes that tell nothing your heart tells them to. i am so afraid of the feelings that are brought back by your presence. and it isn't like this is any other setting, you are in my house. previously, when you were here, you were here because of me, for me. not tonight. tonight you are here for the people, for the ambiance, for the good time. nothing to do with me. because you never had something yo do with me.