Tuesday, 5 June 2012

I hate that I'm not your's, I hate that you're not mine.

I go back to work tomorrow after the most relaxed 4 day weekend. I'm sat here listening to Frank Hamilton and I can't get one person out of my mind. It's the most frustrating feeling in the world because they're the last person I want in my head.

I can't get their smile, their laugh, the way they drink awful alcoholic drinks, their tattoos, their piercings, their voice, their stupid car, the way they make me feel like the most special person in this Universe, the promises they made me and the history behind us out of my brain. I could sit here for days thinking about how much I miss them and how they have the ability to make me go from feeling happy to sad within 2 seconds. Nobody gets it because it's such a fucked up situation but I don't even really want anybody else to understand because what we have is our's. Nobody else's.

I can't get silly little memories out of my head. Like the time you told me you loved me for the first time. That was nice. How nervous I was the first time we saw each other at our most vulnerable, sober and how calm you made me feel. How content you made me feel...

I wish this was different. I've never missed somebody more than I do right now. Let's just forget everything for a little while, please. I'd give anything to lay in bed with you, watching Miranda, eating pizza and making each other laugh, just for a night.

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