is it too late to heal?

cant stop thinking about you. the way you tug at yr sleeves. the way you cock yr head, and make that sound, that clicking sound out of the side of yr mouth. the way you crack yr knuckles. yr perpetual gum chewing. the shape of yr face, the way yr arms feel, and yr hands on my back. how you giggle, and yr whole face lights up. the way you constantly fidget, yr always moving yr hands or tapping out beats. the way yr green eyes glisten. the way i feel when you send me one of yr happy messages, the way you babble endlessly about tour and just bullshit that doesnt matter, but it sounds so beautiful when it falls from yr lips and into my lap. and yr so warm and cuddly, so adorable and mysterious yet so simple. the way i talk to you and i feel like you get it, like you have the same goals and ambitions that i have. i hate thinking these things. because when i do, i fall into this pattern of wishing that it all made sense. and i build you into this unbelievable being, and i neglect the flaws and the way you make me hate myself for falling for you all over again.. the realization that im being strung along, and that you dont know what you want is pushed aside in favor of dreaming of how wonderful it would feel to wake up beside you every single day for the rest of forever. i think about the times we've woken up together, and the feeling of bliss that overtook me each time. waking up in the middle of the night, and yr right there, breathing lightly and holding onto me. and then its time to get up, but you just wanna kiss my forehead and hug me and stay in bed forever. .......the truth is, when i read yr message last night, all i could think about was what it meant. was that it, was that the moment that it made sense? do you finally know what you want? bc i already know. i have it all figured out, remember? and why wasnt she there? i obsess over this, i want to constantly think that things didnt work out, and that every time you see me, you realize that we should be together. maybe it was REALLY good to see me because it made you want me to come to shows all the time. what is the spark? what makes everything feel right when we have our arms wrapped around each other? you press my body to yrs and you envelope me. its like you make me safe, you protect me from all the bad things that could happen. i imagine my life if i spent it with you, warm and protected and happy. this is my tragic flaw.. my unbounding hope, and the way in which it obscures the truth and the correct path. path, path, path.. how can i say the truth is obscured when i truly believe that everything happens for a reason, and that the path just lays itself out before us? there is something to all of this.... maybe its not the happy ending i dream about, but its something.. i feel like im living a movie. you know *something* has to happen, you just dont always know how or what or why until the end....