So, I guess that our “something” isn’t represented by these two definitions. I guess that our “us” is doomed to be stuck in something untitled, caught between the “too much of a friendship” and “so less of a relationship.”
For all the failures and damages that occurred, when you’ve made me a part of your present and I’ve introduced you to my past; I want of you for my future.
And then you come sit next to me,
Close on purpose, right next to me, close to my skin, just skin to skin,
So much that I can feel you breathe.
We cause our own pain by feeding our own crush. It’s not him, or her, it’s us and our inability to move on.
Deliberately drowning myself in could-have-been’s was dramatically prettier than being kept under water by the never-will’s.
I hate that look I catch sometimes. That look of yours that I don’t fully understand.