something intangable
11:55 a.m.

The problem is that it's all hypothetical.

It's one of those things that you yearn for, that you crave, that you fear you may not be able to live without. That you feel and know with every fiber of who you are and who you will be in time to come.

It is something intangable. Something pure and uncorrupted. It's something that you swear could almost be touched, almost be tasted even, if only it were obtainable. If only it were only an arm's length away.

But it's not. Because it's all hypothetical.

I am starting to think that I might become a slave to this. I cannot see this as a bad thing, as it's what I want. I want to be enraptured by the crystal glint of your eyes, by the sleek smoothness of your skin, the lilting tones of your voice. Perhaps I already have been pulled in by you, and perhaps I want anything but to come up for air.

The thought of being lost in you, of being yours now and forever and ever; this thought sends the most intoxicating of shivers down my spine. My eyes cloud over and my throat closes and I reach for anything to keep my balance.

Because I know that I cannot fall that last distance. It's not far, it wouldn't be hard to let go and fall into your arms until the stars burn out, but what would it acheive? And if I did, if I let go and fell for you with the sheer force that only you deserve, would you meet me there?

I worry about that a lot. I worry that this is all so stupid and it means nothing. I worry about how you see this through your eyes, and only wish I could invite you to look through mine.

But it's all hypothetical, as where we are is not together. Not in space or mind or life.

I worry that I'll fall for you and lose you without ever holding your face in my hands, or knowing your kiss or losing myself completely in your eyes.

I worry that I'll fall for you, and never meet you.

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