If I could go back to the start to break the pattern forming between us.

This is a special kind of hell.

Though silently I walked away, inside I screamed and begged for you to make me stay.

Every step that led me away from you felt heavier and more sluggish.

Maybe that's because it was. 

If I didn't love you so much you would be all mine right now.

In my arms you would lay once again if I didn't love you so deeply.

But I do.

And that is why you love me.

An infinite stream of if-only's flows throw my mind.

They marry well with the I-wish's.

A perfect mix of biochemicals.

Mine with yours.

And still only can they see each other through the glass.

Knowing of each other's presence but unable to mix again.

Only fantasy.

Oh how I wish.

When the world starts to change, life rearranged, this is bigger than you, this is better.

With every breath, every beat of the heart, every fucking blink, it burns.

There it is again; that stupid theme. Be creative for once. It burns? Is there a stupid fucking fire? Are you a fucking broken record? Get the fuck over yourself. Who the fuck even cares about this shit? Stop whining. You're pathetic. Stop making excuses. You're pathetic. Stop being so fucking pathetic. You're pathetic. Just shut the fuck up already.

Fuckit.

I don't wanna feel like this ever ever ever ever ever again.

Yesterday I was sure.
Today the windows have fogged up.
Tomorrow has yet to come.
Tomorrow has also already happened.
Today the windows were also clear.
And yesterday I was also still searching.

I exist in infinite iterations outside the shackles of time.
I exist in the four known dimension and in all the unknowns as well.
Yet I don't exist at all.
However, the me in this reality experiences life in a linear fashion, as a slave to the four known dimensions, to his own existence, and to this single iteration.
Here I am.
Good.
Or.
Bad.
Here I am.
No, I am not fucking high.