Here's the catch, I would not know when you will apppear, but when you do, I know, for sure, for the brief few minutes/hours, you were mine to hold, kiss, cuddle and enjoy every possible moment of it. Well close enough. Of course for some people, this may sound silly and extremely childish. Yet I reckon dreaming of you simply gives me a soft, satisfied happiness. it's that few seconds I wake up smiling and that is sufficient for me to pull through the day.
It's really such times that make all the problems of all circumstance fade into a light, faraway breeze. What things are, are what we make out of it. But too much of it is subjective, too much of it is emotional, too much of it is unexplainable. If only.
Sometimes, I have this irrational tendency to beat myself up for nothing. Like I know myself better that playing certain songs would make me infinitely sad, but yet I insist on doing so. It is as though I seek shelter in this misery.
Well to me it is therapeutic. Just like bingeing. Except wallowing in self-pity wouldn't make me a fat blob I think.
Of course I believe we don't need a reason to like something.