numb.

To keep on writing about you would mean to acknowledge that I am hurt,
That I have the urge to smell your skin and to rub my nose against your special spot at the top of your neck. 
That I'd give up anything for endless chats about random staff, 
That I wouldn't mind to get stranded anywhere just with you,
That I miss our non-stop crazy passionate/ sauvage sex sessions, where pain is sweet and just a tiny part of all the pleasure we've shared and done to each other...


To keep on writing about you leaves me defenseless should you choose to attack me, but I now that you're gone for good. You've chosen another life in which I'm not included, at least not in the way I'd want to be.


You want me to be your friend. More accurately, you say you don't wanna lose me as a person.
But you've already made your choice, and it was not me. 


How can you expect me to keep on talking to you as if nothing had happened?
Would you say it's normal to just talk about half of the things that are going on in your life?

She obviously doesn't know you talked to me, would you put me in the position to hide me?

It is clear to me that I'm worth nothing to you. I've never been, and it aches so deeply.

I just wish for the strength to keep on moving.
I just wish I didn't need you so badly.


My friend, my boyfriend, my teacher in life, my love, you're gone.
I need to get this words out of my body, before they sink in so deeply.
I need to shout to the world that I can, because I do.
I do want to move on. To be free. To be myself again.