"Tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé."
I want to remind you of this. I want to study French again so we can have beautiful conversations. You are a secret romantic and I am recovering my romance after a year of disuse. I want to bloom and watch your response. I want to make you mine. I am already your's. You have tamed me.
I feel so melancholy. I tried to cheat today and recover your number, but I was thwarted by my own thoroughness. You've always had passion thrumming under your skin. Once you told me that your lust is a powerful thing. I don't think it's just that; I think it's that sex is the only time you let yourself out. Even then you're holding back. What if you let everything go? What if you screamed? What if you did what you want, and said what you feel, and stopped trying to repress who you are? What if you were you?
I can see it in you. That's why I have so much trouble letting go. That's why I want to tell you everything. You care about me but can't admit it. You have steel restraint. Me, I am made of memory foam. It takes me forever to bounce back. You I couldn't even hit hard enough to dent.
I want to write to you but I'm scared. Right now I've nothing to lose. There could be any reason for not hearing from you. Maybe you think I don't want any contact. Maybe you're sick of me. I don't know. There is no way for me to know. What if I write and I don't hear back from you? That would hurt more than the silence I suffer right now. It would hurt more because you'd again be actively ignoring me.
What the fuck do I do? What is closure?