What is it about love that takes my breath away?
In the very same breath, what is it that causes me to believe I will never be enough for someone to love?
The grass is always greener on the other side. I will always be an accommodation, never a priority.
Must I always be a temporary? A fill for your void but never the solution to it.
Give me a timeline so I can start figuring out how long the next one will stay before I'm no longer a 'need'.
Give me my bookstore, let me make wind chimes and hang them from the ceiling, signature cookies and the largest collection of books a cozy cottage can hold and I'll promise to be content alone. I'll promise to be ok with lonely.. as long as lonely can be ok with me.
"Somebody wake me up, somebody tell me you will. And tell me that your going to save me. That every thing is gonna be ok."
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