Getting up late has a strange effect which doesn't just last for the morning as you wake yourself up but sticks with you for the entire day. For the entire day you're half an hour behind, or however long you overslept by. It's that bastard snooze button. Seems like a good idea at the time, you think it's your friend your savour. It's not. Must resist the temptation. Resist.
The majority of the morning was not unusually pitiful but it got worse. He told people. He told people and they told me. Thought that maybe it doesn't matter. It does, to me.
Can't stop thinking about it still. And him. He fills all empty thoughts.
One day I will tell him. He will be told about how he makes me feel. How I fill with dread and happiness. Horror and adoration. He is my biggest oxymoron.
"Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing, of nothing first create!
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,
Sick health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this."
~Romeo, Shakespeare
Never liked Romeo, but I understand that.
~~I fell in love and all I did was cry~~
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