You occupy the space in my head like stacks of overdue library books; each thought more pressing than the last.
Do you love me as much as I love you?
I must stop asking myself this question.
I absolutely adore you--and although I may not be able to read your mind, I do know you reciprocate my affections.
And there are no two loves in the world that are the same; so in all fairness, no, you don't love me like I love you. You love me like you love me.
Each love is different than the next.
So, it is here where I should cease asking, "Do you love me as much as I love you?" And start asking, "When the hell do we do something about it?"
YOU ARE READING
random thoughts & scrawls
Randomthis is simply where i post all of my randomly thought of and scrawled out stories/thoughts/ideas/words in general
