Paradise

I like it here. Very, very much. It makes me wonder...

There's so much you should be told. So much I think about, so much you could think about. What goes through your mind? Are you as crazy as me?

Have you ever felt like digging your own grave? And you notice it but you can't stop anymore because it is what you do? Or because when you look at it, it looks so beautiful. You decorated it with all the details you'd want to have around... And now it looks like home.

It feels like digging graves, looking around for you. Because it is hard for me not to care about what people say, I know it is not a good habit but these die hard.

Sometimes I think things that look awesome, but then they seem to somehow disappear in this ocean.

If only you could see all I'm seeing. And perhaps if I could see what you see, then maybe. Maybe, right?

I'm holding paradise right now, but not like I was a few weeks ago. The needy part of me won't override this, even if I feel miserable, I'm holding. And it is awesome. I will work hard enough to get paradise again, and we'll make sure the tables are turned by the end of the year.

I still feel these tears trying to get out, and it is hard to keep aware of reality. But we're making some progress down here. And you...

Perhaps you're worth the dig. Worth the risk. Maybe you will like paradise.