There are moments when I close my eyes and can see your silhouette right in front of me. In fact, there are some moments - oh how I love those moments - when you are so vivid that I can even touch you, touch you and feel your face, your hair, your chipped lips, your eyebrows soft as clouds, the deep lines around your eyes when you cross your eyebrows, your smile lines around your mouth, your nose, your cheekbones, your warm skin almost dissolving under my fingers. So vivid that I'm confused, tricked into thinking you are really there in front of me. So real that I tremble in front your image, so real that my heart races frantically in front of you - or the idea of you , so real that it makes me want to stop thinking, stop thinking because if I slip into reality for just a split second I might lose your presence in the room until God knows when you'll be here with me again. And I never want them to stop, because for me, they are as real as any moment gets. I want to vanish, quit this world for good, become crazy, nuts, insane, psychiatric and disabled - so I can only live in my own world, this world I've created, with you simply standing in front me, and me simply touching your face. Your more than ordinary face, and your more than ordinary voice, and your more than ordinary words coming out of your more than ordinary mouth - all of which, to me, still remains extraordinarily irresistible and fascinating.
No. The truth is, I don't want to be free. I don't want to be happy either. What is happiness anyway? Ridiculously subjective phenomenon, isn't it?
No. I want to be chained to a room and trapped in a single moment for the rest of my life, giving up anything and everything that has even the slightest hope about it.
No. I want to be miserable.
No. I want you.
I only want you.
I want only you.
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