Because our half-lived love story is killing me
Burn like an inferno—like hell, I care. Loving you so passionately was anything but fair. It was reckless. Consuming. A kind of madness that curled into my skin and made a home there. I gave in to you, not softly, not gracefully, but like a storm crashing against cliffs, knowing I'd break myself in the process. This thing between you and me—my words fall flat to define it. Are you the ocean and am I the shore? That sounds too poetic for something this violent, this unfinished. We’re so close we can hear each other's breathing across cities. And yet we never seem to stay in each other’s lives. It's maddening. There are days I crave you like oxygen. I want you in my life, in my bed, your breath on my neck, your hands claiming every inch of me. And then there are days I want to run. I want you to vanish so I don’t have to feel this unbearable pull. And the worst part? Your love....