my hands kept brushing against his as we made our way downtown to Starbucks, I mean, it wasn't intentional, it was an accident because we were compacted so close together because of impatient passerby's.
my brain was about to explode with the thoughts of him and I linking hands, cuddling, showing everyone else that he was mine, but I knew I'm a thousand years that my hunky, adorable best friend would ever go for a door mat like me, people just walked over me to get to their next destination, people truly didn't care about me, so why should I care about them?
as we reached our favorite coffee joint, the bell sung, inviting us into warmth and fresh beverages, it wasn't very busy but it was just perfect for me.
he was perfect,
his eyes were perfect,
his smile was perfect,
his laugh was perfect,
the way he cuddled me was perfect,
he was perfection.
but how could he love something that doesn't even love herself?
the answer is simple;
you can love something that doesn't love themselves, you just have to be an illusion, make sure you don't hurt them, break them anymore, otherwise they'll never love anything ever again, and I guess that's what I was afraid of, being loved and dropped at such a height I wouldn't be able to get back up again, love is an illusion and so am I.
