Here I am so fucking beautifully, genuinely and inexplicably in love with you. I do not even recognise myself anymore. So you can sure expect that when I see myself doing unexplainable, irrational and erratic things for you, I'd hope you do the same for me. But I feel alone in this. It's no fault of yours. I just hate that you mean so much to me. I don't just say it. I do it. I push myself everyday to keep a schedule unlike one I've ever had because fuck, I just want to be by your side. I'm wearing myself out. Stuff it. I got you. You have someone who loves you. And I never saw myself as one to fall hopelessly. I don't not love you. I love you, so very much. I love loving you. It only cuts into me knowing that you won't do the same. At least not an all encompassing love that I have nurtured.
