How bad is the fact that I never see my real feelings until they are crused and I soak them in worthless tears?
I think I'm in love. I shouldn't be. I can't be. But I am.
He is the most perfect guy I've ever laid my eyes on, and he can never be mine. Why do I always aim to high?
I love how he puts in random Placebo quotes into he's everyday talk, and how he's eyes sparkle with a special green glow I've never seen anyone else possess when he smiles.
He is so perfect that my dreams become blurry, they can't match up to him.
I want to tell him how beautiful he is, he don't need anyting. As soon as he walks into the room, he is the most beautiful man there.


I have run out on cigarettes.
Taking wandering nightwalks are just not the same without them.

Edit; I'm almost feeling like modifying this a bit and make a deviation of it, opinions?