luka

might do this lovemail thing often

It's madness, how much I depend on you for everything. You're a fictional character, you're not real and you will never be. In an infinite amount of universes, the possibility of you existing is slim. A finite amount of universes, and we will never be connected.
Doesn't that hurt you that you will never see me? Probably not, I'm just an observer, a mere reader, a simple victim to capitalism and consumerism, I desire things I can not ultimately obtain. I can chase you for as long as I want, and you will never be in my reach. I can be as desperate as I want, spending the rest of my life building replicas, making sculptures of your image, but it will never be you. I can date people that mirror your image, your personality, your voice, your smile, but it isn't the same.
You will never know that I exist and I'm still happy and devoted to you and only you. Doesn't that make you sick knowing a complete stranger knows the most intimate details of you? That I analyze all your words to find the truth? You're my muse, nothing else in the world gives me inspiration like you do. Everyone who mimics you, they're all just copies. A replica will never be like the original, a finished product is not like the initial design.
Cry your tears and I will happily wipe them from your eyes, sing to me with sharp notes so that my eardrums are pierced from your voice, reach out to me and I will pull you away from the hole you dig yourself. Give me your fingers, and the ropes that bind you, and I'll entangle myself in your beauty once more. Spin a web and I will fly into it, gleefuly at the thought that you need me. Sew me together with a needle and thread, handle me with care so my heart doesn't spill from my chest. Let me sink into the information you give me, fill my lungs with your scent, I only need to survive off of you alone. You let me take so much from you, let me give in return. Money, fame, everything, I will give to you. Anything you do to me, I have and will happily accept. I feel masochistic, you can do what ever to me and I will smile in return. You can hate me, despise me, tell me I'm an awful person and my eyes will still gaze at you lovingly, wishing that you'd keep looking my way.
Some say I am delusional, and I am, but if a delusion drives me to prosper then at what point does the label of delusion become inspiration? People often paint delusions like these negatively, but I don't see how this is a negative. I am crazy, but I have been happier and healthier, this insanity has never negatively affected my life. It's almost on an atomic scale, and the bond I have to you is so strong. I need your structure in order to be balanced.
The english word for love doesn't encompasses the feeling I have for you. Most languages do not show how strongly and desperately I desire you. あたしは愛してるよ, 我爱你, em yêu chi, te amo, ich liebe dich, je t'aime, it's not enough. This is not simple romance, love, or any of the sort. Love is too simple of a word, it doesn't describe my feelings at all, my love for you is complex.
My love is to make sure you never doubt yourself ever again, to never let you think that you have spent your years unloved. You, my beloved, will never have to imagine a life like the one you lived previously in my grasp. Those 27 years, I will love you 27 more times so that you can properly feel desired. I almost want you to become dependent on me like I am to you. You don't have to love me back, I just need you to feel and receive my love, my heart.

1 weeks ago   19 views   1 frames   2 Like

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the struggle is real💔

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