I miss you. I know, we were just now making random conversation in your car, but it doesn't change the fact that I still I miss you. I know it must be quite funny to imagine me saying I miss someone, but to hell with it, I don't understand it either, so join the club. In times like these we must, once more, put our hands together for Mr. Gaiman for having tried to explain this once before. I hate myself for missing you, even though it feels good. It's not your fault though. Not directly. The think is that I've always been quite good in controlling how I feel, but right now it seems pretty hard to do it, like I've never done it before.
If you know me you know I don't miss people. Damn, I spent months away and didn't miss my parents! Ahh! Just to make sure y'all got this right: hate it. Hate the way you make me feel like a teenage dream, and still ... F*ck!
This is so not how I planned my 100th post to be, but somehow it seems right.
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário