I have never told the man I love, that I actually love him. That's right, I DO love... Seems I haven't realized he is the one, not until today that is. Strange thing the human mind is. You can spend as many poignant hours on trying to figure out how you feel. But in the end it just pops into your mind, while you're walking down to the bus stop, with blisters on your feet and a huge smile on your face. I've been wondering for too long why nothing actually happens to me romantically - Surprise, surprise...Read all about it: Kathy is in love!...
There are no fireworks, no imaginary lovey-dovey cheesiness. Just my awareness! I have never thought about it this way, honestly and this scares me a bit.
Now, you should not go thinking this is some sort of personal diary dilemma. It is a historical documentation of the evolution of feelings. Goodbye teenage crushes! Hello...whatever you are!
Today I danced alone and it made me feel free. I stopped seeing the faces of people passing me on the street. What does it mean? I miss my poetry readings, I have so many poetry books beside my bed... But I don't open them any more.
There was a man today that told me I am beautiful. Maybe he was wrong or that just doesn't mean anything to me. Vanity is too hazaradous for anybody, even more for a control freak like me.
I am not a follower of the existential theory for universal happiness. I don't want happiness, I prefer the truth( for which I have often been mistaken with a mentally ill subject).
Maybe I will tell him how I feel and then know the truth. Or maybe love is just a hallucination!? There are too many "maybe-s" but then again I have never been a fan of precise sciences...
Thank you, I. !
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