Sorry

Just sitting here going through your photos is making the loneliness grow inside. It's unpleasant, and is making my heart fall in once again, poking fun at my tear ducts. But I will let no tears fall. I won't let things touch me. I'll just type out the things I'm feeling, or perhaps I won't.

Everything is just bringing me to tears, and yet I refuse to let it. Refuse to admit defeat. Or to admit to myself that the night is getting to me. That it's getting to me so much that I can't let myself sleep. No no no.

Give it back, that book. I need it back. It had a warm fuzzy feeling to it. I want it back. It made my heart cringe in a good way. I like it when my heart cringes in that good way.

Yet this makes me feel only more the intensity and how pathetic this loneliness of mine is. This emotion that is haunting my insides, hollowing them out softly. The more I yearn for these things in my dreams yet openly spurn the lack of them in my consciousness, the more I can feel what it is I do not have.

The more I can feel my inadequacy.

You. I've had my eyes on you from the very start. Yet I'm not confident in my self-worth. You could find better. She is better, and I know that she is wonderful on the inside, yet torn up by the insensitive actions of others. I'm just alone. Always, always alone. None shall touch my heart. I shan't let them. I shall live for my friends, always available if they need me, and yet, and yet who is there to be available to me? I want that I want that love