It’s a strange thing, the heart. How many times have I broken it, over and over and each time I manage to come back. Each time I manage to come back from what must be the most painful experience, each time I come back ready for more. I must be a masochist, I tell my self this as I lay here typing this on nicks sidekick watching him close down his store. He smiles at me as I lay here and it melts all the fear and remembrance of my last heart break. Watching him kick the ps2 I know that I am ready for him to be my next. So unlike anything I would ever see my self with.... But just the same here I am. I willnt tell him that when I thought I might loose him today I broke down inside, I willnt tell him that I sleep better when I know he's there. I willnt tell him that his touch elevates more pain than 2, 40’s. I willnt tell him that I think about him constantly. When they know its so much easer for them to hurt you. Just watching him sing along with nofx makes me happy, I can barely tell that my belly aches and that my ankle is twisted. I know this well end with my broken heart, but there is no high like the rush of passion and emotion I currently feel.
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