There's a dictionary I read, a while back.
it said...
that you meet all kinds of people, see all kinds of faces
and then there'll be the one,
who's gonna make up for everything.
All the troubles.
All the mess and all the pain.

In the uncalled-for nights, I lie down and think.

Will you ever miss me?
Deep down, I know it won't change a thing
If we stopped talking the next moment.
But I've turned a blind eye to that truth,
because just the thought of losing you...
is haunting.

However, it's funny.
It seems I am the only one who cares,
if this non-existent dynamic between us disappears.
Like, I am the only one terrified to lose us.
While you shake my words off,
like smoke and dust.

Tell me, am I expecting too much?
Should I keep my distance?
Am I in a place I don't belong?
Should I walk away the moment I feel something?

But the damage is done, heart's been broken.
and the bond still remains intact.
I am holding it by a thread,
can't seem to let go of it yet.
Oblivious to the force that'll kill me again.

Am I addicted to you or your idea?
Am I in love or I just want to feel what it does?
Is this a result of passionate fire and strong desire?
Or is this a mix of preferred lies said in those endless nights?

Okay. It's fine. I'll be alright.
Like always. Like last time.
Just need to prevent, or remove, at best...
this sense of attachment.