What do I really miss? Do I miss you or do I miss love? When we love someone do we love them, or do we love loving them and being loved back? I accept your flaws, I love your idiosyncrasies but that’s what I think love is supposed to do.
All this, we’ve never talked about this. We never really faced this part of me, this part that I feel that really is, the core of me. I think. I don’t even know myself. I don’t know many things, and I admit them, only to myself. You are this all-seeing eye, you think you know everything, and you seek to know everything. But I exist in my ignorance, and in front of you, wear this mask of knowledge.
Bleary eyed scrolling through articles on thoughtcatalog tagged under love and sex, sometimes under breaking up.
Realising that everyone is confused about love and no one is a guru. Not getting tips anywhere, no guidance, stop living my life according to arbitrary lists.
We talk about forever because we seem to believe that by verbalizing it, we are making it truer. Since when did truth have a degree; there is truth and there is fiction. We find ourselves in the chasm, reaching for truth with our words. Or maybe you don’t find yourself anywhere but grounded in reality. I am never grounded anywhere.