Feelings. Nothing more than feelings.
And today I feel like so many times before, but it still feels new and foreign. I am again in love and I hate it so badly. I put myself there and I say all I have to say, then I turn around, march away and wait for a reaction. Logically I understand, logically I KNOW there will be nothing. Except the fact, that I put myself out there and say what I have to say.
And then, when this will pass, I will feel foolish and rash. I will hate this unsustainable passion I get, it will feel so damn stupid.

And I hate I know it. I know it so well, that I don't even hope, I just go mechanically through this process.
The only thing I am sorry about is the object of my obsession. They suffer the most- obsessive behaviour, demanding statements and petty sobbing.

So familiar. So hated.

And damn, I am again in love.

I hate my heart fluttering like a small bird learning to fly.