This...

This longing is too much now. It hurts so bad I feel like the slighest glance would kill me. Because I've waited, still waiting, on thin silk threads of hope and hopelesses itself for you to understand, and want and to feel. Oh god. Why? Why do I cry for you, harder than I've ever cried and yet, you know not that I breathe the same air and look up at the same moon at night and wake under same sun everyday.
Fate, how cruel you seem now. Although for good reasons it might have I cannot be greatful. If only stars could be adjusted when time began writing out the courses of our lifes. Found you, yes. And distance didn't so much when I was younger. Now I can feel it. Pounding in my inner cage of bone and flesh. If you could read these words, and know that this is a real feeling and tell me no. Tell me no so I can dream a different dream. Tell me no so I can walk away from this. But.. oh. Don't say no. Just, don't anything. Just hold me there to your cage inside your bones and let me hear your heart beat. For a second then I could be whole, I think. If you let me. Oh god, this hurts so bad. I love you. I love you I love you I love you but you won't know that. You can't until I see you, until we are at last in the same spot for a moment. I don't care how long it is. And all the feelings, the excitment will be there but my face will arrage in set lines of dermination and hunger and loss and yearning to speak the words, those wonderful, horrid, horrible, lovely words to you. And maybe you will roll your eyes and be done with me. Or maybe you will just stare down at me, gaze at me like the Mad Hatter to little Alice and sigh and just say "Thank you." Or maybe you will realized that I was the thing you wanted but fate had to be cruel and it wouldn't work now. Perhaps a crooked smile and a shake of head at a childlike jesutre that you have seen too many times to remember. Maybe you would... kiss me. Just, one. That's it. Please. Just sing Pictures Of You then kiss me. Then walk far away from me, don't send me letters. The longing is too great. Why can't you read this? Damn it why can't you see this?

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