pathetic

there’s probably a million things i could say about you. there’s probably a million things i love about you, there’s probably a million things i want to learn about you, there’s probably a million words i wish i could say to you that i most likely never will.

it’s getting difficult. not in a bad way—but moreso in an i-think-about-you-all-the-time, you-barely-know-i-exist-but-i-need-you way.

it feels like i’m losing it. everyone tells me i’m too much—i love too intense, too hard, too fast, too much.

i’d say it’s pathetic, but it’s hard for me to judge. i think it’s pathetic because of how unrealistic i’m being, but is it really so sad? is it really so bad for me to care for someone wholeheartedly, to respect i’ll never be theirs, to love and love and love from afar, to allow them to be happy without me?

i don’t know. lately it feels like i don’t know anything at all.