i've figured it out
the reason i don't find joy in others company
the reason im always let down after encounters with anyone but him
the words 'someone like him' always slip through my mind as if im reassuring myself that i haven't fallen too deep
the truth hit me harder than the last dosage did
the reality knocked me out faster than the empty bottle on the nightstand
i don't want someone like him
never did
i just want him
i want his angered confusion
i want his odd ice cream choices
i want the drive thru dates
i want his shitty old car
i want his warmth when the nights are anything but
i want those eyes he complains are lifeless
i want the hair that gets in his face like my commiseration is in my way
and maybe that's all it is
want
but the frenzy i feel to make all that mine says otherwise
please prove me wrong
