I guess I won that stupid fight of "I love you more."

My intent wasnt to fall in love.
But you pushed me.
Now all at once Im falling into oblivion

and there you stand, steady, and fully aware of what youve done and proud of what has come as a consequence.

Part of me believes it's all fiction, the way you touched the small of my back and pulled me in like we were magnets. And the other half of me walks the streets of my bare and empty pages, staring at unmarked trains, wishing I could fill those pages with our story and the trains with our initials tied in a heart. I want to be a character in make believe; I want your hand right in mine like a timeless saga. I want fiction to be real and I want the two sides of me to be pulled together in the spine of a paper back romance.