vendettavita's Blog

Damn, I miss you.

If things were different, I would fight for you. Believe that. I would never let you go.

I love you. I’m falling in love with you- who you were, who you are, who you can be…

I just want one night with you. Well, that’s not entirely true- I want many more than that. But one night would be better than none. I just want to be able to show you everything I feel, say all I can think of to possibly convey my love to you. 

I physically hurt when I think of us- my stomach is in knots, my heart aches. I don’t want to be with out you. Why can’t we continue the way were? Who were/are we really hurting? Ourselves? If that’s the case, then why do I hurt so much more now?

I am afraid to think of you, and afraid not to think of you. Thinking of you hurts, makes the pain all to real. But not thinking of you… I run the risk of blocking you out, making it seem not real at all. Would that hurt me worse in the long run? I just want you in my life. What if my thoughts are the only way to make that happen?

I want to show you- who I am, what you make me, how I feel, what we could be together. I want you to experience things you’ve only imagined, and things you never even knew to think of before. I want us to experience those things together, share our fantasies- both what we’ve always dreamed of and what we’ve only thought of with one another.

I want to hear you call me “baby” again. I want to hear you tell me you love me. I want to see your expression, the look in your eyes, as you say those words. I want to feel your fingertips brush across my lips as you reach out to me as if to make sure I’m real, I’m actually there. I want to feel your lips on my neck, my shoulder, my collarbone, as we lay naked, you on top of me, after we make love.

I want to share with you the music that makes me think of you, reminds me of us in some way. The heart wrenchingly beautiful, sexy music. The fun, silly music. The dirty, straight-to-the-point music. I want us to have more inside jokes & nicknames for one another. I want us to smile & laugh & tickle & play rough with one another. I want to just be near to you. 

Keep texting me. As long as I am receiving some ‘encouragement’, I won’t be so broken-hearted. I think. 

Damn, I miss you.