This feeling really can not be understood. I know I really want you to be mine. I want to come back with you like that time. These feelings, can this be called love? or just an obsession? Without a cage I suddenly seemed so sure that someday I will have you.
I do not know that belief or just hope. Sometimes I'm anxious, all I'm afraid of is when it's all a false hope from my heart. Will not it hurt me, I do not want to be hurt by my own heart, I do not want to be fooled by my own illusion, this belief that I believe is possible will happen? Will we be re-equated? What kind of question is this.
I wanted to laugh at myself. Laugh at me who is so stupid and very unfortunate this. I really want to get rid of all the hopes and beliefs about you. But every time your appearance always raises new hope. As if spreading the seeds of feelings to re-blossom in the field of my heart. I always regret every occurrence of you, I've tried to remove you but in the end you come back again.
Not only transformed into memory, even for a few times you appear as a real form that stands before your eyes. Then apply as if you still have the same feelings, but only briefly you disappear easily. Dismantle all the semi-spring that is developing with his elegance. And not once or twice you come back to go. Either I'm too obsessed or confident.
Suddenly my heart gets its own formula, can automatically deduce what will happen. But in reality it is not what I want. Again I had to convince myself, "Sometimes a person must be reunited but not to be equaled". My brain has tried to think this kind of rational too my heart still do not want to eliminate that belief.
Even when reality repeatedly betrayed hope. Why the belief that you will come back and be mine must keep me. Probably true, this feeling is not true love. I think this is just an obsession. Did not Gibran say that love does not need anyone other than love itself. Love does not need to own and have. Because love is enough for love. I will stop this undeserved love, let it be my heart to be an unspoken obsession. As a reminder of my poor history of love.