just another night

I turned off the room's lights. I just left the yellow lights string on [you know the ones]. I'm shaking. I feel pressure on my stomach, some kind of anxiety mixed with wanting to cry. It's not a good feeling. But it's still nothing compared to that daily sensation I feel whenever I think about you. It's not that it's not good. It's just, even though it's good, I stop it so it's not too good. And hurt even more.

My breath is still out of control. I'm not going anywhere. I don't have plans. But my thoughts go far away, come back, and make me remember thinks I shouldn't. Or should. I honestly don't know. If I should, why does it hurt? If I shouldn't, why do my thoughts insist? When I tell you it's a constant battle: it is.

And I stopped here. I stopped because I don't know where else to go. I really don't know.   I wanted to write something like ishpufiheufbefsfsb damn! This really relieves me. And just that. And that would be enough. Did you understand what I wrote? It's as much as you understand of what I say. It's as much as all the others are able to understand of what's going on inside of me. Nothing.

That doesn't hurt. That's not what hurts. It's me understanding. Trying to explain. And not being able to. That's what hurts. It hurts looking at me and feeling broken, grabbing everything that's been lost and not wanting to be stuck back again. It's wanting, for a instance, not being me again. Funny. M-E. It's only two letters and I take nineteen years trying to figure out what it is.

Sometimes I have doubts. Stupid doubts. This feeling. Love. But it's this chill in my stomach. This will of wanting to sidufsfnsjfnsubsufs and leaving the rest blank. The will to go there. The will to duplicate the nights we spent having conversations as stupid as my doubts. this is what takes my doubts away. And increases the anxiety. When does it end? I understood that it's when that M-E wants. Until then, I'm gonna keep on trying to figure out who that is.

These are the reasons that make me ask you not to doubt me. To put yourself where I am [but leaving fast because it's too dangerous here]. These are the reasons that make me be sure that there are no doubts when it comes to love.

I still feel pressure in my stomach. I'm still shaking.

Worse.

I still love you