Trifling thoughts.

I'm so desperate for something. It's that feeling like you're sleeping just beneath a thick sheet of ice, and you're trying to break out. My chest is collapsing into itself. It's hard to breathe. I love the layers beneath every part of you, the part that covers you, the part that is concealed beneath a sheen of bravery, a false facade to face the hardship of reality. I feel like I could break into that, like I could slip past the outer core of who you seem to be, into the person who you actually are. What if I can? What if I do? What if I hurt you, and I can't take it back? I love how you hide so many parts of yourself within the parts of who you try to be. I love how I catch little glimpse under the peeled back layer of artificial mockery of yourself. I need to stop myself from laughing out loud, stop that strange swelling behind the pocket of my shirt. I like the crease in your back, the strong tan you've seemed to have developed, a trivial turn over I've only begun to see. I feel like gliding through that fabrication of disbelief you have. I just need to see you for what you are, for who you are, for everything you want to be. You engrave a part of yourself into me, started up the spark that has so long been dead. I don't know if it's the strange words and pictures that depict who you are, I don't know if it's the way you walk, or the way you look at me sometimes, I don't know if it's something in the way you talk or smile. But I'm happy. I'm happier. And you did this to me. You make me feel amazing, and beautiful. You make me feel worthwhile, like I'll never ever be forgotten.But I lack a faith in myself. My own bravery, my own salvation to the ache of my heart, hidden behind my own mask of make belief and distant smiles. I can't bring myself to tell you. Of course, a strange sort of fantasy that has been floating around in my head for the past few days. The thumping of my heartbeat, gaining momentum, every inch, every fiber in my being reaching out to touch you in a way that my head wouldn't allow me to.

I'm so sorry. For myself. For you. For everything that is not meant that be, and can never exist. I'm so sorry for everything, because this is something you will never know.