48 / talking in secrets

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I've never wanted to speak about something so very badly, but keep it secret at the same time. Is it possible to do both? Because I don't know what I want anymore. I don't think I ever did.

Last night, I dreamt of cigarettes. It's funny how I dream of addiction when you're all I'm able to see, and it's funny how I mention you in the same sentence as addiction. I've got a problem that time might not be able to fix; I've got it so bad. You don't even know the half of it.

Let's keep this short and sweet: I love you, and I want to watch you grow. You're someone I can't ever see myself letting go of, so grab onto me. Make sure you don't lose grip. Are you holding on? Time is about to try to tear us from each other. I need to have you, more than I need anything else. Please cling to me.

I'm addicted to you, to watching you flourish into a beautiful person. There's nothing I want more than for you to rise above all you've been through, that I can assure you. Maybe someday you'll know, if I ever get the guts to tell you. (I know I won't, but I still have room to hope.)

I don't know what I want. There, I said it. I can't tell if I want you, or if it's something much deeper than that. My words make it seem that I've foolishly fallen for you, though I know it's more complex than that. We are complex, if giving us a title is appropriate at all.

(I talk about you all the time, in front of you even - all in code. I've got a funny way of articulation, and you're oblivious to this secret I've been keeping behind my eyes.)

revengeavenue

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