What is this? The more you love, the more you look up to that person, the more distant you feel... The less you come to believe that you deserve to be with that person...
To be filled with love... and yet to be filled with sadness.
But that holds true only for a moment... Then you believe again despite your thoughts. In your wish to be with that person, you're willing to put up with the torment that your own mind is doing to you. You make yourself the exception to your own twisted logic.
Your definition of love... Is twisted. Tainted by the world. Your soul, even to your own eyes, is unclean.
You are me.
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