I shouldn’t let my mind wander. Never ever again. I let myself think something, something I wanted to feel. I couldn’t help but think it was a possibility. I got a call telling me I had a package waiting for me at home. I couldn’t help but think it might be from you, with a note accompanying it. This dream, this nightmare is turning vicious. I can’t escape the constant analysis, the constant articulation of a million thoughts and hopes. Then when rush home, each second bringing me closer to what might be, I find myself horribly mistaken. Reality comes crashing back down. I’m alone. I’m not wanted, not in that way. People want me for sex. How many times can you hear the phrase, lust vs. love before you begin to think you’re nothing more than eye candy and a tight ass.

I can’t keep going back to this. I have to stop. I think I move on, then a dream, a moment of hope ruptures my cool facade. I’m a mess, an internal mess, whose very thoughts disrupt his actions. My heart continues to beat irregularly. I’m still not sure what it all means. I want the love that they write about in books, but I’m just too fucking scared now to try again. I don’t know if it’s worth it.