Love Is The Drug
It’s been 5 years. 5 fucking years. Loving, adoring, worshiping, crying, breaking down, going away, embracing indifference, moving on but keeping on messing with heart and mind.
I have come to the conclusion that falling in love is like a permanent brain damage, equivalent to a lobotomy. ‘Cause I can not explain how someone can bring shivers down your spine even after years of what you initially thought was just a little crush…
Guess what. It’s like a tattoo it never goes away. Have laser removal, have another tattoo at the same place to cover it up but noooo it won’t fucking go away.
But do I want it to go away? Maybe I’m the mental here (’cause I always thought the object of my desire was a genuine kook) since I keep on romanticizing about an affair that it never even started.
So here I stand after having left the country and returned back, after being in a serious relationship the past year, after having fooled around with other guys, after attempting to date his friend, after announcing that I don’t give a damn about him anymore, here I stand listening to him talking about….socks! yep. and the irritating fact is that I have this huge smile on my face and feel this pinch inside of me….Ouchhhhh!!!
I should probably embrace the idea that I ‘m gonna be old and still yearning for the object of my 19 year old desire.
‘Cause countless pages I’ve written, countless times I’ve blushed upon encountering him and so on and so forth.
I’m worried that I sound like a 13year old with a cruch on Robert Pattinson or whatever his name is. I’m shuting up now. And I become the mature, self-confident young adult image that I project to other people.
Yes I’m clearly mocking them ’cause I’m a fraud. I always secretly paint bleeding hearts and arrows on my desk while listening to Savage Garden…
