I know it's not love. But what it is is not important. Thing is, it is. You're beautiful. I wish you knew. It's nice to talk to you. Sometimes. Sometimes. It's nice that you're nice. Yes, you're lovely. Or maybe not. Maybe I'm romanticizing who are you. Mixing the concept of "you" with so much. The transient beauty of snowflakes. So elusive, so silly. And the smell of sunshine. So golden, so warm. Just building up a construct of who you are. And falling so deeply in middle-school-infatuation with it. I don't know if it's real. I don't know if you're real. But what you are is not important. Thing is, you are. Yes, you are.
In case you were wondering: No, this post is not about you.
Great one....loved it , everypart of it....:)
ReplyDeletei love it. though i can only guess who or what this is all about. it is very 'you' :p
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