Misted Thoughts

Human

I don't know what to do.
I guess the days that i am hit by so many different feelings, one top of the other, like cake, I just need to talk to somebody. Mostly, it is not coherent.
My sister's Instagram claims that Pisces cannot have coherent conversations, but you would always understand.

I want to talk to you. Do you want to talk to me? I'm so afraid to ask you that. I'm so afraid to ask you what you feel about me. I'm so scared to tell you every emotion I feel when I'm talking to you.

I promised myself that I would not let any emotions muddle up what we have right now. I promised myself I would not get personal. I don't want to disturb it in any way. It's like this beautiful bubble in front of which you're afraid to even breathe, out of fear that it would pop and never come back to you.

Every single time, I talk too less and feel too much. Do you? Should I be allowed to? What do you think we are? Have I talked to you enough, has it proved my worthy of being a friend to you?

What am I to you?

I'm so scared to ask. So so scared. Every time I am about to, I hear his voice telling me to think about you before me, think about it ten times and then say something, think about how it'll pop our bubble. I don't want to pop our bubble. It's so pretty and comfortable. It's the Happiest place to be in. It's got colors of the rainbow and when it doesn't, it doesn't have anything. Like a transparent piece of beauty.

Like you say, all or nothing.

I want to hear your voice on the phone, again. Static being the back ground music.

You have made me laugh a lot. It balances out the guilt I feel everytime I see your picture. I love seeing you in a maroon sweater. I feel like jelly legs. Complete jelly legs.

I love how your eyebrows push up when you ask me to repeat my question. I love how your eyes crinkle when you laugh. I love to love you without having hope or expectation of anything. Because nobody gives two fucks. :)

Not the teachers. Not the friends. After a long time, nobody cares.

And I can't even tell you that I want to talk to you.

Wow. I'm just so fucking mad at life.
Will you ever look at me like human rather than your past? Do you do that sometimes?
I'm scared to ask. I don't want our bubble to go away. I don't. I don't. I don't. It's so.... Precious. It's too much to lose again and again and again. It's too much. I'm sorry.