You're a constant presence in my life. A constant voice at the back of my head that I'm not all that sure how it sounds, but it's always there. You are always there. If there were any words to describe your impact in my life (even if there aren't), it would be constant and present.
It's amusing the way life works, many of our desires can't really be completed until after long periods of time, when we don't want them anymore, or not as much. I think of you in ways that I shouldn't, because it would only hurt us, or gradually distance us. I wouldn't be able to deal with that, because in an isolated life, having something constant is truly a relieve. Knowing that I can talk to someone no matter the time or situation. Knowing that someone somewhere is listening, from my old family stories, incoherent ramblings, and moment thoughts, to my deepest reflections, ideals, perspectives and emotions. To have someone reassure me on my darkest periods, and the action being mutual.
I'm hopeless, we're hopeless, and I let my mind wonder on scenes that'll never happen, because it is impossible for them to. I almost feel bad, for using you as an excuse on my pathetic attempt on feeling better about myself, on feeling less lonely, less isolated. I almost feel bad, for being just a little in love with the idea of you, because you're not quite real, but you feel so real, you are real which tears me apart. Sometimes I wish you weren't real, so I wouldn't have to kill myself everyday knowing you're out there existing, knowing I exist, and still being nothing but air in front of me that fades into ideas in my brain. You're touch being just a dream, a handshake, a hug, those things I would assassinate for, but still never get.
I think about you all the time and I shouldn't, because I know you don't think about me as much. But I can't help it, when I'm surrounded by people, and you're still that little voice at the back of my head, that seems to be the only one who listens. When I'm alone at home and you are, the only one who listens. You're the most constant and present person in my life at the moment, and that is as well, a constant and present suffering in myself, because you're practically unreal, not even shadow or a whisper, yet always so present.
I am shameful of my words, because you're probably going to read them. I know I shouldn't have let you become so important in my life, because I'm not this important in yours. But with every passing day, you've made your way through my mind, setting yourself in there, and occupying all of the space. I don't know if I should be sorry or not, if you'll be ashamed of this or not, I just felt like writing it, and sharing it, without it necessarily being directed to you, because just maybe, there's a chance (and I hope) you won't read this at all.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Denisse, shut up, I swear I'll choke you
YOU ARE READING
Simple Thoughts
Não FicçãoWritings and short stories, None of the stories have anything to do between them. A peculiar book
