Sometimes I don’t Know

But you. You are not one person. You are more than one and you are you and you are him. And I don’t know how many are in there. Is it not getting too crowded?

Sometimes, it is nothing but an illusion.

Sometimes, you are certain about something, or at least you think you are.
Sometimes, you think you are so in love yet others see it like this: you are in love with the idea of being in love with someone. Sometimes, you play with words, and come up with word towers so high, each of which, reaches the hemisphere and the galaxy and the Black Hole where the peak can no longer be seen.

Sometimes I think I’ll never get over you. Sometimes, I think I will always love you and nothing can erase that and nothing can replace that and sometimes I think I’ll never fall in love the same way again. Sometimes I want to be your lover but sometimes, I just want you to be my friend because all beautiful relationships start that way and sometimes, it becomes more beautiful when love intervenes. You become my confidante, my partner in crime, my best friend. But sometimes, it hurts when it shouldn’t because someone gives up first. Sometimes, I remember you, some days I don’t and that doesn’t bother me because sometimes I don’t give a fuck. I don’t know. I just don’t. But sometimes, I do. I really do. Sometimes, you imagine loving this girl but you can’t because you don’t know why but sometimes you think you do but you are stuck in a moment like some kind of a limbo and you don’t know where exactly is that unless you try to wake up because you are dead to the world, asleep, dreaming all sort of dreams and nightmares and wedding dresses and I am wearing a white dress but you are not the groom and you just wanna punch his bloody face and make his straight nose crooked, if it already aren’t. Sometimes, I just want to slap my face because oftentimes I imagine things and I have to slap myself to acertain that I am wide awake and this is happening, for real. Sometimes, I remember your lips on mine and we are one and sometimes I wish I could kiss you right now cus my tastebuds are yearning to taste and touch and feel yours and there would be days when I just wish I’ve met you first.
Sometimes I dream about you and we sat next to each other but you wouldn’t even meet my eyes and you wouldn’t talk to me and dammit I love you still.

But you. You are not one person. You are more than one and you are you and you are him. And I don’t know how many are in there. Is it not getting too crowded?

Sometimes, I don’t know everything about you. But sometimes, I am sure I do.

Sometimes, I wake up. And some days, my mind tells me that there was never you and I was always alone. Sometimes, I imagine things.

Sometimes.

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