I love him not...
I love him...
I love him not...
Every day I wake with a new emotion. I want to spend the rest of my life waking up next to him, my head on his chest and his cheek on my hair. I also can barely contain the feeling of euphoria that I know would come from placing my pillow over his face while he slept until I felt his last breath. Is this a psychopathic view to have? Absolutely. But emotion walks on very thin lines with me. Hate and love are synonymous, the same as sadness and apathy. I feel such ambivalent emotions that I'm certain I'll never find someone I can truly love; I'm far too complex for such emotions. He loves me. That's it. That's all there is. There is only one petal. He loves me with such purity and certainty, the likes of which I'll never comprehend.
I love him...
but
I love him not...
False words have never been so honestly spoken.