I don’t know if I’m in love with you or the idea of loving you. It’s unclear.. I mean I used to feel so sure, but I might just be immature. I’ve been stuck on you for so long, that it’s hard to tell myself I may be wrong.
she’s unavoidably scary, her name is time. she doesn’t wait for anyone, which i guess is fine. the only thing that stops her in her tracks is the realism that there is no tracks. so she won’t remember your name, because, in reality, we’re all the same.
i’m not even sure.. is it okay to still hurt this bad? because years and years later, i’m still missing you, dad.