Sometimes I miss him. Sometimes I need a break. It's the feeling you get when watching a mysterious movie. Who was the killer? Imagine having to pause the movie right in the middle. You're so captivated by the plot that you try to put the clues together on your own until you can watch it again.
That's how it feels to know him.
But then you watch the movie. You start again from the beginning. It's less captivating than before. You finally reach the part of which you left off. A piece of you wants to only watch a little bit, and then stop it again. Just because you've waited long enough to figure out who the killer is, and you know it will all be over in a half an hour, and you could never feel the same toward this certain plot for the rest of your life...
That's how it feels to know him.
Part of me wants to wander through his mind. Part of me doesn't want to spoil the mystery.
