The truth is I don't want to be a lingering after thought. A space that fills void. An unattainable purge of what you have been lacking. A comma in the break of a sentence, I've been in to many situationships to idealize anything less than romantic. To many almost & could have been something's. It's like a reflection of the sun but the heat never dissipates close enough for me to know it's real. The existence of it leaves my soul aching in hunger even though my belly is full. Maybe that's the difference of it, getting high off sugar and the other endorphins. One the body can sustain, the other just a flicker of a high that last as long as the burst of affection. To be desired is a supernova of lust. It's a star that burned out centuries ago but the light still fools you into believing it's present. To be loved is like the moon and all of its phases because even when the moon shows up in parts, you know it's wholly still there. Still yours. Still will rise again tomorrow.
