I'm sorry I constantly want to talk to you. It is because I'm insecure. I'm scared that you will find someone better for you to talk with. I'm scared that you will find me boring and lose interest (I don't even know if you are). I'm scared that you will finally realize that I'm not good enough for your time—I know I'm not. I'm scared that between the time gap that we don't spend talking, you will drift away through the space. I'm scared that you will leave. I also overthink. I keep thinking that maybe you are mad. Sometimes worse, I keep thinking that maybe I said or did something to upset you. I keep thinking that maybe I didn't say or do things enough. I keep thinking that you are just a dream, instead of a reality.
I am aware that the world is temporary, and that forever is only one second, and that words are equivalent to paradoxes, and that lies are the new truths, and I'm still sorry that I constantly want to talk to you.
I'm sorry that I constantly want to talk to you, and even though I am aware of the dangers of attachment, but at least for the continuous brief moments, you are real and you are mine.
—E., (please talk to me)
(Thankyou @phosphenous (line@) for this beautiful word. It is so me:") )
