A few days ago, I thought you were the world. Now I’m not so sure.
I, too, remember the feeling. You are caught between all that was and all that must be. You feel lost.
I’m ashamed of myself because I know I should be better and I have no idea how to get there.
There are two types of waiting. There’s the the waiting you do for something you know is coming, sooner or later—like waiting for the 6:28 train, or the school bus, or a party where a certain handsome boy might be. And then there’s the waiting for something you don’t know is coming. You don’t even know what it is exactly, but you’re hoping for it. You’re imagining it and living your life for it. That’s the kind of waiting that makes a fist in your heart.
Overwhelmed with sadness
Underwhelmed by your love
I just want to have a completely adventurous, passionate, weird life.