And you're a rapist

Sometimes you have to walk away. Staying, staying is like being a rapist. You keep insisting that you know that if they gave you a chance, it a chance, it would work. So you stay and you try and you're like a rapist. Because every human being has a right to decide. Their decision doesn't have to match your desire. Two people can see the same situation opposite.

So you stay and you're a rapist.

Everything is a sign. You don't enjoy the moments you have because you're too busy translating it into what you think, romanticizing every hug and laugh, revelling in how right your instincts are. Those are't your instincts, those are your fantasies. So you stay, waiting, hoping, trying.

And you're a rapist.

You think, 'oh if only I tried the right way at the right moment' and a montage of romance plays in your head. Oh, it hasn't happened, because timing is everything and you've missed it. So you stay, and you're a rapist.

Sometimes, you need to walk away.
And you stay, and you're a rapist.


The thing is, I miss him. They don't tell you about the layers of emotion. It's either everything is on or everything is off. But for one feeling, there are a thousand layers. The passage of time strips many of them away, but time also shows you what all the layers are. How do you know that when you strip off lust and obsession, you realise that there was understanding and laughter. When you strip off the hurt and the pain and the drama, you realise that there was a real friendship.

Emotions operate on an all or nothing basis.

I can't give all, but I don't want nothing.