In my head

You are in my head, in my imagination. You are in my dreams when I’m asleep and when I’m not. You don’t feel real. I know you are but sometimes I’m not so sure after all. Sometimes I think I’ve imagined everything. Or maybe you are real but everything else is not and everything we are is not. Maybe I overthink things and take things too seriously. Or maybe everything is what I think it is and you are you and we have what we have (and how the hell is that going to work). I’m not sure which option scares me the most (all of them). And now, writing all this it hit me that you’re currently not talking to me (not the first time though). I don’t even know where you are and are you ok (probably you just have an actual life). Where have you gone? I hate it that I miss you and I’m not actually allowed to miss you and you probably have no idea that I do – no way I’m telling you (I just might, actually) and how could I when I have no idea where you are or are you mad at me which would suck major ass since I’ve done nothing (shit, I might have done something after all).

So yeah I fucking miss you and have all these goddamn cute as fuck dreams about you and you just keep on going without having the slightest clue about all this (not so sure about this one either anymore) and you just joke about these kinds of things and I don’t even dare to think what you think about me (holy shit). And now look what you’ve done, you just ruined my attempt to write something proper for a change. I tried to create something pretty and you turned it into a shitload of whining and obsessing and made me look ridiculous (which I am). So would you just kindly please come back so I can go on doing what I’ve been doing and not be distracted by the fact that you’re somewhere with someone and I don’t know anything and you don’t even care to tell me or well you could be just really busy and think about me all the time and feel really bad for not telling me anything..Well that turned out perfect didn’t it (HA)? You did it again, do you really think it is fair to keep penetrating my mind like that? I hate you (no I don’t). And now you got the penetrating thing into my head, WHY are you doing this to me (please don’t stop) over and over and over again?

I’m asking you, please come back. Wherever you’ve been, whatever you’ve done, whoever you’ve been with, I really don’t care. I cannot function when you’re gone so I need you here (want you here). Just come back (why are you not here already) so I can stop listening to my heartbreak-playlist (seriously, how pathetic).

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