Hey.

Hey.

There's so many times that I wanted to write to you, and often more that I find you feeling exactly the same. We somehow sought each other for that hope to calm the hurricane within. I think I finally understood why people listen to music as they commute. So that they didn't have to listen to the chatter in their head. 

I think I'm getting bipolar. I wanted him to be here and when he is finally here, I wanted nothing more than being alone. I get on so excited one second and the next I'm  upset of everything. Its easy manic and cliff of despair. It's like I'm only worth whats far-fetched; that I'm incapable to touch because feelings disapparate and I'm emptied before I knew it. I often seek to refill myself, that desire and that drive in order to feel something... at least. 

It cripples me to realise that my love is short-lived. That I only deserve that much. Perhaps that's why I kept you always here. That feeling to want you, and you cannot be here. Then I'll never have to learn that I never truly love. 

Maybe I deserve that; those that are so far-fetched. It's so encouraging and depressing at the same time. It felt like tunnel lights ahead dimmed, and I walked backwards to find the first light I came in from.

Oh those far-fetched
Such beauty from afar
Like the planet of rose with the prince,
when being apart becomes lovelier
I love myself then
than I can ever love myself today.