SCrEAMiNG FoR SoMETHiNG..

THIRD TIME TODAY. I don't know, I just keep changing my mind as to whether I wish to keep writing or not. I hate to be so impressionable. And I hate to sit with the widest of eyes in awe at you, taking in every word piece by piece and analyzing it. I hope it doesn't throw this off, I believe in everything you say, it's like I just have to. You called last night. It was a little before midnight, but I was so tired [I was still sick]. But when I heard your voice, I didn't know what to do. We didn't mention the other night, GOD NO. I wanted to mention that I already miss you. I wanted to apologize but what would that do? Wouldn't give me a better standpoint in this, so I kept quiet and played it cool. --SIGH-- I can't do this much longer. I feen for you like a drug. Like you've been jabbed into my arm or shoved down my throat and now I need you forever. Like I'm addicted to your words, your arms [that I've never felt], your face [that I've never touched], your everything. Can't you tell me I'm pretty under the stars again and call me a bright angel? --stop-- this means too much to me. HOW DO I STOP watching the stars *and* [thinking] [of] [ y o u ]