Running taps. Keys in lock. Lights left on. Wallet left on the table. Water bottle unfilled. Mp3 player unbrought. My mind is so lost in you without you. I am absent within, and there's no way to get myself back in shape, save Time's miraculous works.
I see apparations of you in the reflections of bus windows, and turn around to see someone else; the bus sceneries comes colourless, soundless, devoid of soul and passion; curvacious babes that once seemed so appealing appear formless, for they are not you. I am going down.
I move around irritated all day, waiting for someone (anyone) to step on my tail that I can have an excuse to bit his head off. And I will. Shun me, for I am in my most irritable form now. You will not like me. Yet I am helpless like an limbless lion, harmless like a sedated rabied puppy.
Perhaps I did not know the consequences of our decision, perhaps I was overly positive. But now that the thought that I am (really) losing you is sinking in, I am not taking it easy. It never comes easy to me. I am not one such person. I am only an idiot that is so in love with you.