Friday, October 16, 2015

5:36 pm

Writing is an obsession. Yet as the urge to sit down with a pen grows, I realize just how crazy I am. I, who cannot remove the thought of you from you from my brain. I, who cannot seem to function because there is a million questions in my head surrounding you, each screaming as loud as possible, trying to win my attention.

I deleted your number, removed you from my snapchat, as if erasing you from technology, by means of contact, I might make it easier on myself. But the knowing desire is there, itching to reach out, to allow you to see me at such a low, with red eyes and tears streaming down my face. Would it be possible then, that you might be able to see my love? Would it sway you? Would it make a difference? Would you see yourself in my eyes? Knowing how it is to love someone who doesn’t love you back?

I will never doubt the power of words. Though sometimes I do wonder why scribbles, syllables have such meaning, depth? Then I think about your actions, and it was there for a time. The way you’d smile, or gently rub me in silence. The way I came before you.

I wish you’d let me see past that pasted on smile, that you’d open up and let me in… Trust me…

Love,

Zitao