The 19th of a woman I swore to never think of again. The one who, with the barest attention, can have my heart in my throat and the blood going to my head. The one who has had me in... not torment, not nearly it, but in an absolute frenzy from the moment I first laid eyes on her.
Happy birthday, Rebecca.
I love you. God, wait, no, no I don't. Infatuation isn't the same thing.
I don't know what it is. I don't want her, I don't love her -- but I still vie for her attention. For even one fucking Facebook notice with her name and mine on it.
I suppose I'm much the same about Brian. But... It's not the same. What we have, feels much deeper than just that. Than just brief flirtation, this near-obsession. It's very much more real. She just... sets me alight, with every word and non-word. In a way that's the same, but not the same, as how he does.
Fuck me, emotions suck.
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